


Technomantika

by lilmaibe



Series: HEM-lads [3]
Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crossdressing, Gay Male Character, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-07-17
Updated: 2011-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 11:48:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 30,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/224853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilmaibe/pseuds/lilmaibe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after 'Unseen Academicals'. What if a seventy-foot tall chicken turns out to be the smaller problem?<br/>(Please see first chapter for a longer note)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear potential reader  
> If you are reading this you are expecting a story concerning the handling of Brazeneck's little poultry problem as described at the end of 'Unseen Academicals'. This story you shall get. But be informed that this story is set in a trouserleg of time different from canonical one.  
> There'll be mentions of male homosexuality, something some people might find offensive enough not to read a story.  
> If nothing of this bothers you and you are curious:  
> Read on, have fun and maybe leave a comment.  
> Thank you

In fact it all started quite a while ago.

Not as long ago as the universe itself, of course.

But the things related to the events about to unfold started some good time back. Some shorter back, some longer. And, thinking about it and to be precise, one or two of them might actually originate from around the same time as the universe.

The bits concerning the nature of a school-choir certainly do.

Now a lot of time had passed.

It had to, as some things need the existence of cities, streets, humanoid beings, and a breathable atmosphere to happen.

And it was morning now.

Early morning.

The streets of Ankh-Morpork were only marginally more busy than usual and in fact even for the city's standards nothing seemed too out of the ordinary.

If one doesn't count the small cab rattling along the road by the riverside.(1)

Granted, there were a good number of cabs, coaches, and carriages on the streets already, even here near The Shades, but seeing the combination of early day and the location it might have surprised some people to learn who was making their way down to the docks.

“I'd appreciate if you'd finally tell where we are going and why we are going there, Stibbons.”

Archchancellor Ridcully was remotely grumpy.

Of course not because it was merely ten in the morning. And actually neither was it because Ponder Stibbons had come rushing into his study and dragged him out of the university without losing a word about the why except for 'It's important'.

It was rather the events of the recent past that made him feel like this. Only the past days had been ridiculously busy. With things that barely concerned the wizards of the UU. Not directly at least. Indirectly though... But indirectly everything could concern the university in the long run. The recent events at least concerned it in a small jog.

And as if that was not enough, now Stibbons was babbling about that they need to go down to The Shades before they'd make their journey to Brazeneck.

Brazeneck... Ridcully frowned inwardly as he remembered that mess.

Not the one that still laid ahead of them but the one the papers claimed to have happened.

“I'll gladly explain everything once we're at 'Twitten Close', sir,” Ponder answered, leaning his head against the window, his view fixed on the street. “That's a small alley hubwards of Pearl Dock,” he quickly added to avoid further questions.

“Stibbons.”

The younger wizard cringed. He had hoped he could avoid this talk. He had also hoped he could do this without the Archchancellor asking any question. Couldn't that man just for once just nod and agree?

\------------------------------------  
(1) And the unfortunate events currently happening at the estate of a certain Mr and Mrs Grouchy Dimples, involving a rubber ball, an old walking cane and a very misfortunate and confused sheep.  
\------------------------------------

Originally Ponder also had hopes he could do this without the other man present. But several unfortunate events, amongst them the same erroneous reports that upset Ridcully, required the Archchancellor's presence.

There was still a bit of way ahead of them and Ponder knew he couldn't avoid things as long as he'd prefer anymore.

He took a deep breath, sighed and took another one:

“Sir, I am aware that I am handled as the creator of HEX, which honours me. And I am aware that this assumed position will play a rather large part once we are going to Pseudopolis to aid them with their problem. But seeing the circumstances that led to it in the first place, I can and will not leave Sebastian out of the matter. We need him at this.”

With furrowed brows the Archchancellor leaned back: “Sebastian...who is that now?”

“Sebastian Courtsbridge.” After that Ponder refused to say any further word. A clear signal, -another one, actually, that something was deeply amiss. Much to his relief the cab stopped only a moment later and, again without a word he got off and moved into the narrow streets near the river. It took the Archchancellor a moment to catch up with the younger wizard, especially since he had to stop, turn around, pay the driver and then go and find to where Stibbons was heading again.

Said where, Twitten Close, was one of those alleys that seem to get swallowed by the streets and buildings around it. While not uncommon for The Shades it still was an odd sight to see, what with the much taller houses leaning over the alley, its own buildings rather squeezing themselves into the space between the others. The light that wasn't blocked out by the roofs was caught in the full washing lines that criss-crossed above the narrow street.

Ridcully found Ponder at the foot of a small flight of steps leading to a low, dark door which once certainly belong to an entirely different building.

“No one opening, Stibbons?”

“Not yet, sir. But that's not much of a surprise. Sebastian has, to my knowledge, twelve or thirteen siblings. Granted, his eldest brother doesn't live here anymore, but one of his sisters does with her husband and their children and...”

“Are you wishadsh?” a voice suddenly squeaked and the two men turned to look at the face of a small girl of maybe three or four years of age with short, dirty blond hair. Pretty dirty at that too.

“Yes,” Ponder answered, “I'm Ponder Stibbons and this is the Archchancellor of the Unseen University. We...”

He didn't get to finish the sentence as the girl slammed the door closed again.

“Lovely...” Ridcully commented and crossed his arms to which Ponder Stibbons just shrugged, rather short of an explanation.

“Seems as if we have to wait, sir. At least Twitten Close is a rather safe part of this area. And we are wizards.”

Having finished that sentence Ponder tilted his head briefly and then shook it quickly, a clear sign to those that knew him that he just realised that his words didn't really add up the way he wanted. A wizard was safe everywhere.(2) That statement was a bit unnecessary.

“Oh, that never worried me, young man,” said the Archchancellor, looking with a hint of concern at the younger man. The way Stibbons spoke and acted ever since, well...ever since this very morning was unsettling.

And Ridcully couldn't even put his finger on the exact 'Why'. It wasn't that Ponder seemed to be not-all-there. That was a state of mind not unusual for wizards. And he was following one of his ideas again, a situation in which Stibbons tended to be prone to dwell in his own piece of reality. Till another member of the faculty dragged him back into the here-and-now.

But at those times he had never been so short-worded, if he wasn't babbling, repeating the same words over and over again, or seemed so sad and confused.

The latter ones at least not until someone pulled him from his little bubble of conclusions and theories.

What was he planning that it managed to upset him like that?

“Say, Stibbons,” Ridcully then said, trying to perhaps get some more information. “This Courtsbridge-lad. Do I know him? The name sounds familiar; it just doesn't ring a bell.”

“You met him, sir. First time several years ago, back when we had that business with the Music with Rocks in it. Which curiously happened without happening, which opens the question of...” Ponder stopped himself and forced his mind back on topic, “Sebastian has been part of my research-group for years, sir, before he had to leave the university due to family matters and unforeseen complications with his exams.”

Ridcully furrowed his brows again, shook his head and thereby cause the younger wizard to sigh once more.

“You probably remember him as 'Skazz', sir.”

“Scrawny fellow, a bit smaller than you,” Ridcully blinked in surprise and underlined his words with several gestures, “Ludicrous haircut, bangs all over?”

“That's him, sir. Though he...”

That moment the door was opened again and narrative causality would normally mandated the sentence to be finished with a remark about how Skazz was far taller by now in a voice getting lower as the one saying the words would come aware how redundant they were, as it was clear to see.

If some far more important question wouldn't have pushed the rest of the sentence out of the way:

“Why are you wearing a dress?!”

The young man seemed to be taken aback and just as surprised as the two others for a moment and tilted his head down to apparently looking at himself, as if he only just noticed what he was wearing:

“Err...'cause I look gracious in apricot...?”

Skazz shifted from one foot onto the other, surrounded by one of those infamous moments of awkward silence. What happened then, though, deeply and greatly surprised the Archchancellor, who would have never thought he'd witness such a thing happen:

\-----------------------  
(2) Except in the company of other wizards, that of witches or in general if his name was Rincewind.  
\-----------------------

Ponder rolled his eyes --nothing uncommon for him-- but then grinned amusedly and... chuckled.

Ridcully had never heard him chuckle. Especially not like that. He had heard the younger wizard laugh dryly and awkwardly, but this was a clear, hearty giggle.

“Well, do come in,” the young man chuckled, too. “No use talking in the doorway.” He stepped aside and waved the two wizards in, “We have a living room at the end of the corridor. Make yourself comfortable, I'll be right with you.”

He closed the door and moved up the staircase right next to it, leaving Ponder, who slowly composed himself again, and the Archchancellor in the hallway.

“Weird fellow you got there, Stibbons,” Riduclly coughed.

“Skazz has always been a bit of...an oddball, sir. Even for wizard's standards.”

“He made you titter.”

There was no answer to that, but the Archchancellor could easily guess that young Stibbons, who stalked hastily down the short corridor, was flushing bright pink. Even though he had no explanation why. There was nothing wrong with showing such a side of oneself. With a brief huff Ridcully followed down the small hall.  
Granted, there wasn't that much of way to follow down.

Somehow it was hard to imagine that --What had Stibbons said?-- thirteen and likely more people lived here together. The building was narrow, only two storeys high and rather short. But that was The Shades for you.

“Shir?” something tugged on Ridcully's robes, causing him to look down. The child from before stood there, holding up a plate with what might very well be biscuits. At least the shape hinted into that direction. But Ridcully doubted that that many sprinkles could be in existence.  
“Emily shaid I should apobogish for shuttin' the door on you.”  
The girl looked at the Archchancellor with something that could be called 'expecting pout' and the head of the Unseen University sighed, carefully taking the plate off her and coughing briefly:  
“Well, me lass, you could have left the door open to someone not like us, which would have been worse.”  
The child looked at him with big eyes, nodded with a broad, happy smile and ran off into the nearby kitchen.  
Ridcully looked down at the dish and, lacking anything better to do with it, took it with him into the living room.  
Ponder craned his neck.  
“What do you have there?” he asked.  
“I dare say these are biscuits.” Ridcully handed the plate over and sat down next to Ponder on one of two small couches, which might have seen better days once. But it was doubtable that there was anyone alive on the Disc to remember that time.

The moment Ponder, with a suspicious eyebrow risen, put down the dish on the low table between the sofas the door opened again. And Ridcully later admitted that he, upon seeing Skazz having tied his hair back into a short ponytail, was a bit surprised at the lad actually having a face.

“How was Pseudopolis?” Skazz inquired the moment he was seated, still mid-progress of putting his shirt on.  
“We haven't been there yet.”  
“No?” The young man blinked, “I thought Drongo had a little poultry problem.”  
Ponder pushed his glasses back up his nose, eyeing the plate with biscuits with growing suspicion. “He IS HAVING a poultry problem.”  
“Oh. Well...shouldn't you be on your way to...”  
“It's not as urgent as the newspaper makes it sound like.”  
“I thought that thing is rampaging through the city.”  
“Apparently it did for a while, laid eggs and then settled itself down on a nearby hill. They still need our help getting rid of it for good, even though it doesn't appear to mean any harm. As said, the articles about it were a bit …” Ponder bit back the word exaggerating, for obvious reasons, “they distended things a bit.”  
“That articles were odd in general.” Courtsbridge shrugged, shifting his position to sit cross-legged. “For 'xample: Since when do we have nine square meals bigger than any of the ones I got to know at the UU? Would that even be possible from the time that would require?”  
“If we'd move the Great Hall and the kitchens to that one corridor in the hubwards part of the second floor, yes. But that whole bit about the mentioned bequest and the meals is incorrect in any case.”

Skazz shook his head, took a biscuit and nibbled on it for a moment:  
“And what was this whole business with the orc about?”  
“You'll laugh.” Stibbons grimaced. “We wondered the same.” He took a deep breath, “Do you know of the 'Our City-A Novel' column they are publishing on page four every now and then?”  
“Ah, that one. Don't have the chance to read the times that often, Ponster, but, yep, that I know. It's the thing where they rewrite stuff that has happened in the city as if it was a fictitious story.”  
“Exactly that one. Well, seems the last one got a bit messed up and the serialised novel from page twelve mixed into it and then things like the drafts also, accidentally, affected the actual articles somehow and...” a sigh, “Long story short, Mr. de Worde deeply apologized for the erroneous news coverage.”  
“Should have known,” Skazz answered, leaned back and watched the ceiling as if there was anything to see, “Y'know, I know Trev, and, heavens, he was rather upset at something last time I saw 'im. Hadn't the time to actually ask what was wrong. Though, I think I can guess where that mess came from.”  
“You can?”

“Yes. An' I think you too. Sasha reads that column on a regular basis and...”

“Sasha?” Ponder interrupted. There was no one of that name Sebastian had ever told him about.

“My elder sister. Anyway, Sasha and I talked about it recently and she said that they changed the rhythm to every month for the column a while back. And, as far as I saw it, now they have many more stories in there instead of just picking one or two from all the stuff that happens. Like t' see you trying to come up with a, err, leitmotif connecting some of the stuff the city has to put up with.”

“At least they kept the same author for it. I don't want to imagine what it would have looked like if they'd suddenly hired someone not as talented.”

Ponder stretched, a move mirrored by the younger man.

“So, Ponster, what 'cactly brings you here? Have you finally come to...”

“Sebastian!” a voice from the corridor hollered and Skazz scrambled off the sofa, before, seconds later, a man with a certain resemblance of a cupcake burst into the small sitting room, grabbing him hard by the shoulder.

The lad howled briefly, while the man was shouting words not fit for printing at him. It shall be enough to say that the man was less than happy that Sebastian had let strangers into the house.

Ridcully cleared his throat, earning a glare from the man. Not that it impressed him.

“Wizards,” the man rather spat the word and finally let the lad go, who shuffled off to the side. “What do you want?”

It wasn't an actual question, as the man continued the very next instance, cutting off Ponder who had just opened his mouth to explain.

“I thought the little maggot had failed his exams. And was kicked out of the university. What did you do that they came here, you little … ?” he shouted, stumbled forward, reaching for Skazz again, but had to stop before running straight into the Archchancellor, behind whom the young fellow had decided to take cover.

“If I were you I'd stop that, my good man.” The tone Ridcully spoke in, in combination with his expression towards the smaller man, should have been a clear signal. But apparently that guy was worse than anyone else in the city to get the message.

Again, the things he then said are not fit for printing, but they mainly concerned his thoughts about wizards, the university, Sebastian and manners.

His rant, though, was cut short by the sound of two people snapping their fingers simultaneously, followed by a croak.

Ponder Stibbons watched the toad hop out of the open door.

“Who was that charming individual?” he asked, as he and Skazz sat back down.

“Uncle Rupert.”

Stibbons drew a disgusted face.

“You lads care to fill me in?”

For a moment the two younger men looked at Ridcully as if they, for some reason, had totally forgotten he was present.

“Skazz's mother died and his father married again, sir. The new wife's from a rather well-heeled family, but her mother was very... strict. She'd only give the family financial aid if they do her bidding. That man is here to assure everything is going the 'it should'.”

“And that even after my step-granny died a few years ago,” Skazz said, “Instead of giving Maman the inheritance she should have gotten, that cow of a woman passed all her money to her two sons and the other daughter. Wanna take a wild guess why, sir?”

Ridcully huffed: “Sounds like the classical 'your mother fell from grace with her by marrying your father'.”

“Bull's eye, sir,” a frown, “I jus' hope he's learned at least part of this lesson and'll not come back in once he's got his form back. So, back to what I was 'bout to ask: Why are you …”

Before he could say another word the door creaked and the little girl from before waddled in, climbed up onto the couch next to Ponder and looked at him with big, curious eyes.

“Yes?” he asked after a moment of feeling like something in a jar of alcohol somewhere on a dusted shelf.

“Will you make Batti a real wishad?”

“Annie,” Skazz protested, abashed.

“We can't do that just like that,” said Ponder, not really sure how to speak to children. There was a huge chance they'd understand him better than the UU's faculty. “Sebastian needs to pass his examination first.”

“Actually Sebastian's teachers need to make up their mind if he 'has passed' his examination.” Skazz pouted and now it was up to Ponder to look abashed.

As if seeking for help he glanced at the Archchancellor, who had been uncharacteristically silent the whole time. Ponder couldn't help but feel as if the older wizard was pouting too, as he, Ponder, had not yet taken the time to explain why they had come here.

He sighed, pushed his glasses back in place and started explaining:

“First of all, to have that matter out of the way, Sebastian's examination. There is one question to which he has given an answer which, while not technically right isn't wrong either. The nature of said answer requires the School's council to decide whether it gets counted as right or as wrong. Which, due to the score Sebastian has reached in the rest of the examination question, would decide whether he has passed or not.”

“Ponster,” Skazz rose an unimpressed brow, “If the newspapers were right at that point, you ARE the school's council. Can't you just say 'passed?'”

Ponder frowned.

“You remember the answer in question? It makes it impossible for me to make a decision on my own in this matter. I can't you passed just because you're my friend.”

“But you do make up most of the council?”

Again Stibbons frowned and took off his glasses to clean them: “I'm also the entirety of the school's swimming team and several other things. I have too little time on my hands to sit down and continuously try to decide about your examination alone anyway.”

“We have a swimming team?” Ridcully spoke up, looking rather baffled.

“Yes, sir. Me.”

“Since when?”

“Ever since the pool was repaired and renovated.”

“When did that happen?”

“About half a year ago.”

“And why?”

“Because the swimming team needed a place to train.”

“Ah.”

The Archchancellor leaned back, satisfied with that explanation, only to cast a suspicious glance at a perfectly innocent looking Ponder Stibbons, who was now inspecting his glasses for smears, a moment later.

“Anyway,” the younger wizard continued, rummaging his pockets for a clean handkerchief and continuing to clean his spectacles, “That is something we have to take care of another time, as the poultry problem at Brazeneck is far more pressing.”

While Ponder paused to sort his thoughts again the little girl pressed past him on the sofa and leaned against Ridcully.

“Can you make it girlsh can become wishads too?” she said, “Wishads have pretty dreshesh.”

To this Skazz snorted briefly, Ponder buried his face in his hands and the Archchancellor looked caught rather off-guard at the child.

“Annie, go up and help Katty with her sewing, will you?” Skazz chittered, picking the girl up to set her down in the hallway.

She nodded and waved good-bye to the two wizards.

“Dresses...” Ridcully huffed the moment the door was closed behind the girl.

“That's Another for you, sir,” Skazz continued to titter, undoing his ponytail to hide his flushing face behind a curtain of hair.

“Another what?” Just a moment later the gears in the Archchancellor's head cranked into place, “That's her name, isn't it?”

“Yes, sir. Long story. We usually call her Annie. So,” Skazz took a deep breath, calming himself, “Ponster. If I should guess, and I am guessing here, you are here because Drongo screwed up stealing Hex just as much as the article indicates it. And you want me to help as only Tez and I ever managed to at least guess what Hex would add to himself next.”

“And, more importantly, YOU originally built Hex to begin with. Therefore I'd be glad if you'd accompany us to Pseudopolis.”

“Ponder.” There seemed to be a significant drop in the room's temperature as Skazz said that.

“It is NOT that,” Stibbons protested, flushing and finally putting his glasses back on. “How heartless would I have to be to even think about that? It's the sheer technical aspect of the problem. And...”

“Ponder.”

“Yes, maybe a little bit,” Stibbons mumbled, playing absent-mindedly with the toggles of his robe.

“But, you know... We would have to stay there for a bit...Granted, your stepmother has a brother and a sister in Pseudopolis and Adrian's family lives there too, but still...”

Skazz tilted his head from side to side upon this while Ridcully couldn't help but feel like someone who, while reading, had just flipped a page to discover several important chapters missing.

“Stibbons, how about you _finally_ tell me them important bits,” he said, raising a brow.

Ponder opened his mouth to answer when he noticed the significant absence of a question mark in the older wizard's sentence.

“Drongo might think Ponster wants to hurt him if I come along, sir,” Skazz answered in Ponder's place.

“Ah, because you're cleverer, right? Don't worry, lad. The only one upset about you being slicker than young Turnipseed would be Henry. Serves him right.”

“So...” Skazz stretched the 'O' suspiciously long, “Am I just supposed to come along an' help with whatever Drongo threw together or is there a tiny lil' chance you will also, finally, decide whether I passed the exam and can come back to the University? If it's just the first thing I have to decline. Archchancellor, sir, this is nothing against you. A bit against Ponder, perhaps, but... I can't and shan't and won't come along to merely help you get their own backs on Adrian and Mister Porter. Yes, I am pissed they went and did what they did, but I am needed here, too. Mildred and her children are here till her husband finds a new home for them, Katty is trying her best to get accepted into the Guild of Needlewomen, Emily is this close to finally getting a job at the theatre and Maman and Papa are already working their skin off to get enough money to support us all. We're nineteen people here right now. Every hand is needed and if I'd just come along as unpaid adviser...”  
Now Ponder raised a hand to signal Skazz to stop.  
“Sebastian. I know it's very early in the morning and you probably haven't eaten anything yet. But normally you are quicker with your thoughts. I know exactly what you worry about. And now think about what you see here.”  
Stibbons's lips curled into an uncharacteristic mischievous smile and a moment later Skazz jumped up to nearly tackle Ponder off the couch, laughing heartily and thanking his former teacher over and over again. Much to the surprise and astonishment to Archchancellor Ridcully, who, for yet another time this morning, felt left out.  
“Before you two start kissing,” he said, “Could one of you lads fill me in....once more?”

Skazz let Ponder go, who cleared his throat.

“It's a bit complicated, sir,” he started, “but it was necessary that you come along in your position as the Unseen University's Archchancellor as well as a witness as Sebastian's status as student needs to be restored even with the decision about his exam left unresolved. Something I, even though I do hold all those council-votes, can not do alone.”  
“How would him becoming a student -again- help the situation he just described, Stibbons? If I understood it correctly young Courtsbridge here worries about not being able to help at home if he'd come along to Pseudopolis for a few days. How can him comin' back to old UU be a better option?”  
“As I said, sir, it's complicated. I shall explain the details later, if you want to hear them, but for now, well... The financial situation of Sebastian's family would greatly improve if he'd be an official student again.”  
“With the tuition fee they'd have to pay then?”  
“Because of it, to be precise.”  
Ridcully looked Ponder up and down and shook his head: “Who are you, lad, and what have you done to Ponder Stibbons?”  
“I am me, sir. It has something to do with an old bequest and a bit of financial trickery.” Ponder blushed at the last two words, not feeling too well about that bit of cheating. “As said, I will gladly explain everything later on. But for now... Would you give your approval to the restoration of Sebastian's student-status?”  
There was a quite long moment of silent and if one listened closely one could hear Ponder's and Skazz's hearts beating anxiously.  
“Fine with me,” Ridcully finally said, before raising a finger at Stibbons', “But we two talk as soon as we're back home, you hear me, Stibbons?”  
“Yes, sir.”  
Next to him Skazz squealed and, with the announcement that he'll get his stuff and tell his siblings --those that were awake and in the house at least-- that he was going back to the University again, he frolicked out of the room.

To return with a duffel bag on his back and a washed-out violet scarf around his neck to meet the two wizards back out in the alley.  
“Something the matter?” Ponder couldn't help but notice that the --now again-- student seemed rather worried all of sudden. “Is it your uncle?”  
“Naw, for that bugger I'd never care. He likely went drinking. No...” Skazz craned his head, looking around, “It's Annie. Neither Katherine nor Emily have an idea where she went.”  
“Oh...That...”  
“Could we take a moment and look for her before we head back to...”  
“Batti!” That moment the girl came waddling up the alley, sobbing softly.  
“Annie!” Skazz picked her up, wiping the tears away. “Oh, Dear, I already worried where you went again. What's wrong, little one?”  
“It went boom.”  
“What went 'boom', dear?”  
“I found a froggy. And when ...when I put it on the river...”  
Once more the girl sniffed and flung her little arms round Skazz's neck, cuddling.  
“Annie, that is the Ankh. I know you think frogs and whatnot should be in a river, but I told you that the Ankh is not...” a terrible thought snuck up the student's spine and with a paling face he looked at his two companions. Judging by their expressions they shared the idea.  
“Annie, go back home,” Skazz croaked, put the girl down and rushed to the river.

 

There were bits and pieces of fabric around a cupcake shaped imprint on the river's surface.  
There should have been bits and pieces of other things too, but Narrative Causality mandated that a child of four or five years --or a wizard of almost thirty with a weak stomach-- should be spared from such an optical experience.  
Ponder kneeled and picked up a shoe that had landed on the quay wall. The shoe was far too new and intact to be there for longer than a few minutes. But of course there was smoke curling up from it.  
The three men exchanged looks and finally Ridcully cleared his throat.

“Well, young man,” he said, patting Skazz on the back, “If I heard you right, your little sister is known to put frogs and whatnot onto the river.”  
The student nodded.  
“And your uncle knew we are wizards. He knew what was coming at him when he attacked us.”  
Again Skazz nodded slowly at the Archchancellor's words.  
“So, my lad, it's practically suicide.”  
Skazz just stood there, swooning slightly. For a brief moment Ponder thought he a saw a blissful smile behind the curtain of hair.  
“Well...” Stibbons then said. “They might be wondering where we are back at the University. Should we walk or should I look...”

Before he could finish the Archchancellor whistled sharply for a nearby coach.  
“I never could do that.” Ponder shook his head as the vehicle approached.  
“It's easy.”  
“No, sir, I meant 'cause I'd never have a reason to even try it that way. The drivers would just shrug and ignore me if I'd try.”  
“You need to get yourself a better reputation, Stibbons. But now off home. I'm starting to get hungry.”  
Ponder smacked his lips as they climbed into the coach, wondering if he should say out loud that he was actually happy with the reputation he had by now.  
Knowing Ridcully and maybe because he was getting hungry himself he decided not to.  
The coach had merely started his way to the University when Skazz to ask some further, rather important things:  
“Say, which other things from the papers 'bout old UU are act'all genuine and which stuff will Mr de Worde have to write a correction for?”  
Ponder rubbed the side of his nose. “Is there actually anything left we haven't addressed yet?”  
“Not much I think. It's amazing how much is right, while, well, being wrong at the same time.”  
“It's an alternate reality. We may not forget that.”  
“Yes, I know. But I think it's a bit... upsetting to read that near all of Trev's efforts get credited to someone who in this reality doesn't even exist.”  
“Outside the serialized novel. But a reality such as the one erroneously depicted by the newspapers is ought to exist somewhere after all. And to be honest: I'd be curious how they would continue on after the events described. And how they managed to handle the problem we are still about to face.”  
“Can't agree on that, lad,” Ridcully interrupted. “It would take all the thrill out of the hunt.”  
Ponder stiffened briefly at the Archchancellor's words.  
“Sir, you're not planning on hanging the chicken's head up on your wall?”  
“Why not? How many giant chickens are out there?”

Sometimes it was still hopeless. Ponder knew that, in this reality as well, Ridcully was far from being as dull and slow-minded as he sometimes seemed. If only it would finally become clear in which ways that was.  
And yet he had managed to point out something very important. Not the trophy-hunting, of course, but that looking at the other trouser-legs of time to quickly solve a problem was, in most realities, out of the question. For a moment Stibbons, who had leaned his head against the coach-window again, thought about it, adding to the fascinations of the various realities the horrors they might provide. He had already been upset enough that there had to be 'skinny' versions of him, while he was carrying around his puppy fat. Thinking further about it he wouldn't want to actually see himself in any version truly disturbing or horrifying. Or depressingly better.

It was, in some cases, bad enough to just know and imagine what could be.  
“Well, wouldn't want t' live in that reality,” Skazz suddenly mused, much to Ponder's relief, and crossed his arms.  
“Why not?”  
“'Cause I don't exist there.”  
Ponder turned his head away from the window and frowned at the student.  
“Can't fight that logic, Stibbons,” said the Archchancellor, shrugging briefly.  
“What 'bout that genuan guy?” the student continued after a moment.  
“Professor Macarona? Yes, he's real.”  
“That I know. I meant if he's like the papers described him.”  
“Oh...that you mean. Well, yes.”  
“Oh...awesome. Plain awesome.” Skazz frowned, blowing a strand of hair from his face.  
“Sebastian, please.”  
“Ponder, you KNOW how I feel about that. And I don't see a reason to NOT have him know what he's at with me.”  
Stibbons rolled his eyes briefly. “Please, Sebastian. Just try to avoid him instead of looking for a fight, yes?”  
The student huffed, shrugged and stretched out as far as the coach allowed it.  
“Fine, fine. But I tell you if...”  
“Aren't you a bit prejudiced, me lad?” Ridcully felt like interrupting, not liking what the student's words sounded like at all.  
“Pardon, sir?”  
“You really shouldn't act as if Macarona is a lesser being just because he's...”  
“Sir, sir,” Ponder hastily interrupted, blushing. “No... It's... I have to explain something here,” he turned his head towards Skazz, “If I have your O.K. to tell him.”  
“I thought you already had.”  
“Tell me what, Stibbons?”  
“It's...You see, sir. It's not that Sebastian is prejudiced because Professor Macarona is...well...”  
“I'm gay myself, sir,” Skazz blurted out bluntly and Ponder tried to pull his hat over his reddening face. “I just have my reasons to have a grudge against people like him. It's nothing you should worry 'bout, sir. But...” he sighed, calming again, “I do HAVE to ask you to NOT tell anyone I just told you about my sexuality. Please.”  
For yet another time this morning Archchancellor Ridcully seemed to be taken by surprise. And, while others may have now started to worry whether it was a good idea to have such an odd lad, who had already displayed certain quirks, stubbornness and a degree of bluntness, back on the campus Ridcully looked forward to what was to come.


	2. Chapter 2

It would be speaking with a lot of good will if one would continue to call whatever the faculty of the Unseen University was doing 'waiting'.  
Most of them were still lying in their beds or, as it was the case with the Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography, under the bed. Not under his own, mind you.  
While the old saying went that hiding in plain sight will lead to certain safety Rincewind had little trust in the idea that hiding in his own room would spare him from the travel to Pseudopolis.  
Especially since the bledlows were, well, simple enough to not think complicated thoughts such as 'He'd never hide in his own study.'  
Therefore Rincewind had picked a room as far away from his own study as the dimensions of the University in this reality allowed it. Without leaving one's own reality that is.  
The idea of running into an alternate version of himself made Rincewind's flesh creep.  
Today this chamber was possibly the one on the border to another here-and-now.  
What had the plaque on the door read?

 _'Professor W.A. Scuffle-Brook, Lecturer of Sinuous Actuality and Co-Ordinated Performances'_

In the depths of Rincewind's head something stirred.  
The blurry memory of a face and a voice paired with the sneaking uncertainty of whether or not that man actually existed. Others may have continued to wonder about this, especially since there was a recalling of having met Mr. Scuffle-Brook more often than once, even if the whens, wheres and whys were in the air, but Rincewind preferred to concentrate on hiding from the bledlows.  
But slowly and steadily he was not feeling well with that either. They were taking too long, which, for some reason was not a good thing. Oh, there was no doubt that they'd find him sooner or later, but said later started to seem uncharacteristically long.  
There were two possibilities and Rincewind didn't like either of them.

One: While he was hiding this part of the campus slipped into a different reality.  
Two: Something really, really nasty was going on outside.

Rincewind knew that getting up to quickly peek out of the room was a horrible bad idea, but he had to see what was going on to decide whether to start running or crawl back under the bed and continue hiding.  
He tip-toed over to the door, slowly and silently opened it, held a piece of paper out to see if it was remotely safe to poke one's head out into the corridor and did so after a moment.  
To discover which of the possibilities was the correct one.  
It was Three: They were waiting outside the room for him to finally come out.

Skazz looked up along the walls off the HEM as if facing, well, something that inspired humble and honest awe. It was hard to tell what said something was with Skazz.  
As the faculty was still in the process of waking up or being woken he and Ponder had decided they could very well say 'Hello' to Hex.  
“Ponster?” Sebastian nudged the smaller man next to him after that one had unlocked the door.  
“Yes?”  
“Another thing: Hex can't really talk, can he? I mean...aside from...” Skazz gestured, seemingly glancing sideways if anyone was listening who shouldn't be listening.  
“No. When I started musing about that possibility,” Ponder frowned briefly, “Hex decided that if he's to talk outside of the known circumstances he'd very well do so with an accent."  
“The _hell_?” Tugging his hair behind the ears, Skazz grinned, bemused. “Why?”  
“Just 'cause, I guess,” shrugged Stibbons, entering the building.  
“Which did he want to pick?”  
“What?”  
“Which accent?”  
“He didn't say which accent. But knowing him I'd say that one from near Uberwald where each 'ch' sounds as if you're coughing up something nasty. I'd rather continue waiting for Hex to finish writing an answer than constantly worrying that the sound comes from some part breaking off.”  
“Maybe Hex thinks that accent sexy.”  
Ponder stopped dead and looked up at his student with a face that indicated that his brain just stumbled.  
“ _Sexy_?” he croaked, “Hex is not able...not supposed to find anything sexy.”  
“Says you.”  
There was a grumble from Ponder which quickly subsided once the almost frantic sound that came from Hex the moment the two men stepped into the room.  
+++Skazz!+++, the writing read and something about it added an invisible colon and capital 'D' to the short message.  
Skazz smiled broadly, patting Hex' keyboard as if patting a child's head.  
“Hello there, Hex.”  
Inwardly a little part of Ponder shuddered. So many years and he still hadn't gotten used to Hex' behaviour at times. And then there was of course...  
His view travelled over the gallimaufry that formed the Thinking Engine, coming to rest at a small area through which one could spot a dim, icy blue and octarine light shimmering somewhere behind all the tube and pipes and bits and parts. One had to know where to look, of course. And Ponder knew it.  
He let a deep, long sigh escape his throat, and closed the mental storage boxes of memories again before looking back at his student.  
“I think we should head over to the Uncommon Room now.”  
“Can we head to the storage room first?”  
“Why?” The image of said room sprung to Stibbon's mind, and his thoughts wandered over the various items in there till a specific memory answered the question.  
“No, Sebastian. _No_!” he protested.  
Skazz pouted.  
“Why not? It would work, wouldn't it?”  
“Of course it would work, but it's...it's...” Ponder searched for the best word. He had some adjectives waiting, but none seemed to be fully fitting. “It's...unethical.” That word didn't seem fully right, but what should one call an approach that either ends in a success concerning Pseudopolis' problem or in blowing the chicken to pieces? Which, taking it literally would be a success too, but a far messier one.  
“We'll find a better way,” Stibbons continued, making a nod that indicated his words were final.  
“And as I said, Skazz, we should go now.”

  
Over in the Uncommon Room the faculty slowly gathered, and few faces gave the impression that the persons they belonged to looked forward to the travel. At least at this early hour. Later in the day, perhaps, but now? It was almost time for lunch. Much too early to go anywhere. Especially anywhere that is that far from home.  
The one who possibly disliked the idea the most, though, had no chance of avoiding the trip.  
As he, right now, was presented to the Archchancellor by two bledlows.  
“Found 'im back in Professor...” one bledlow started but then paused, looking a bit puzzled.  
“Scuffle-Brook, I think was the name,” his colleague helped.  
“Aye. Professor Scuffle-Brook's study, sir.”  
“Scuffle-Brook?” Ridcully drew a face that indicated he shared the same sentiments as the others upon that name wandering through his head. He looked to the side to find the rest of the present faculty twittering unsuspiciously with each other. For a moment the Archchancellor wondered whether or not to interrupt them, when the feeling that none of them might have an idea about that man either snuck up on him.  
With a brief huff he turned his attention back to the bledlows.  
“Thank you for your service, gentlemen, but I think you can let Professor Rincewind go now. The way you were holding him surely made him too dizzy to run.”  
Rincewind was dropped to the ground, moaned and, despite the world spinning beneath and around him, tried to make his escape by crawling the moment the bledlows had left.  
“Now will you stop that?” Ridcully said, putting his foot onto the creeping wizard's robes.  
“Do not want...” that one managed and rolled onto his back.  
“It's only a small trip to Pseudopolis.”  
“It's so far away.”  
“You've travelled further away from home, Rincewind.”  
“No, sir,” Rincewind protested as Ridcully pulled his foot free from the robe. “I travelled home from further away.”  
Ridcully shook his head and helped Rincewind up.  
“It's only a day's worth of travel away,” he said.  
“It's far less than that in other realities, sir. I asked Ponder Stibbons about that.”  
“In other realities you have also died already in very horrible, gruesome and painful ways. Would you really prefer that?”  
“...No, sir.”  
Rincewind sighed. Sometimes it was rather unsettling how much of the stuff Stibbons was saying seemed to actually stay in the Archchanellor's head.  
“But,” he tried, “someone has to stay here to keep things running here.”  
He paused, saw Ridcully's doubting expression and decided that volunteering to stay behind to keep the university working was very much the worse choice. Much to his relief Ponder Stibbons, curiously followed by a student, walked into the room that very second, drawing everyone else's attention.

Granted, it was more likely that the student did that.

After all, he was a student in the Uncommon Room.  
“Mister Stibbons, are you aware you brought a student in here?” the Lecturer in Recent Runes inquired, having found his voice again first.  
“Yes. This is Mister Sebastian Courtsbridge,” Ponder introduced his student to the rest of the faculty. At least those that didn't knew Skazz yet. “He will accompany us to Pseudopolis.”  
Runes eyed the gangly lad for a moment before shaking his head at the younger wizard.  
“But really, Stibbons. A _student_?”  
Ponder sighed lowly, pushed his glasses into place again and looked up at Skazz, who seemed to not be dwelling in the here-and-now mentally at the moment. Or was, and Ponder hoped it was that, holding back a snappy comment.  
“My, look who it is,” a voice sounded, apparently pulling the student from his thoughts and drawing the attention of the nearby wizards.  
“Now there's a heap of hair I thought I'd never see again,” Dr Hix spoke, approaching. “How are you, lad?”  
“Fine, sir. Thanks.” A broad grin spread behind the curtain of hair, causing Ponder to raise a brow.  
“You know each other already?” he asked, noticing Runes shared his surprise.  
“Nodding acquaintance,” Hix explained. “Your student here once hexed a rubber-allergy on some of my lads. Impressively evil deed; my regards.”  
Ponder blinked in brief confusion. That trick sounded mean to him, but not necessarily 'impressively evil'. Granted, as most of the equipment used in the PMC-Department was made from rubber nowadays it was nasty and likely bothersome to Dr Hix's students, but weren't they often wearing gloves with their outfit to begi...That moment Ponder actually understood it.  
“ _Sebastian_!” he then burst out, his cheeks burning.  
Skazz sniggered.  
“Fine lad you have there,” the Head of the Department of Post-Mortem Communications continued, patting Stibbons on the shoulder. “Can make someone in my position almost jealous. You're certain you don't want to change courses, Mister Courtsbridge?”  
“No, sir, I am happier at the HEM. Aside from that, I'm not into dead people.”  
Hix tilted his head, grinning after a moment:  
“That is one old quip if I ever heard one.”  
“Hard to resist them, sir.”  
Silently and frowning Ponder shuffled away, letting himself slump into one of the huge armchairs.  
“Want to stay behind too?” Rincewind, who let himself fall into the chair next to Ponder's after having to give in on coming along, sighed.  
“Of course not,” said Ponder, waving the servant for something to drink.  
“Willing to find a way so I can stay here?”  
Ponder glared and downed the brandy that had just been handed to him.  
“Not happy with your decision of bringing Skazz along?” Rincewind carefully tried after a moment.  
“Mhn? Oh, no, it's not that. I know I'm in for headaches with him.”  
“And a lot of blushing. Never saw you get red that often in a row before.”  
“You know him,” answered the younger wizard, looking at his empty glass. “No, it's the whole business with Hex and Adrian's machine that worries me.”  
“I know I'll regret asking,” Rincewind said, looking up at the ceiling while Ponder ordered another drink, “but what about it?”  
“That's the problem. I'm not sure. It's just a horrible feeling that something is wrong. Outstandingly wrong.”  
Next to him Rincewind frowned.  
“Why, thank you. You just ruined my last chance to get out of this.”  
Nipping on his next glass of brandy Stibbons looked at his colleague from the corner of his eyes.  
“Fine, fine,” he then said, slowly swirling his glass, “I'll try to arrange something. I doubt you'll be of help anyway.”  
Rincewind looked Ponder up and down, uncertain whether to be relieved or offended by that. But before he could decide the younger wizard had slammed his glass onto a side-table, jumped from his seat, and rushed over to his student, who, by now, was obviously quarrelling with Professor Macarona.

“Actually I'm just not impressed,” was the first thing Ponder heard from Skazz as he came closer to the two men. “Only two of them titles come from actually genuine arcane institutes. Two other appear to be only there 'cause someone wanted to kiss up t' yer family. And the rest... Let me put it like this: I'm not even _graduated_ and I already got me 'MfG' from one of those.”  
“Sebastian!” Ponder finally and harshly interrupted. “That's enough!”  
The student grumbled and buried his hands in his trousers' pockets.  
“I have to apologise for Sebastian,” Ponder started, watching Skazz flounce off in a huff.  
“What's his problem? Felt as if he holds a grudge against me.”  
“Not against you personally, but...”  
“But?” Macarona paused, “Oh, I see. It is because of _that_.”  
With his cheeks slightly reddening again Ponder looked around to make sure that no one else was within hearing range.  
“Actually,” he whispered, “Yes and no.”  
“Yes AND no? How can that be at such a topic?”  
“He never told me any details.” Ponder shrugged, his cheeks flushing again. “I merely know that he has something against people who...”  
“Oh, that's just typical.”  
“No, it's not that. As said, it's yes and no.” Once more he sighed deeply, “Well, I think I can tell you of all people: Sebastian actually had a long, loving relationship with Adrian Turnipseed.”  
The genuan wizard blinked in surprise before the annoyance and disgust in his face made place for a compassionate look.  
“The poor lad,” he sighed. “He must be heartbroken.”  
“I really can't tell.”  
“If he is I think I can understand and forgive his behaviour. Ah well, I shall see if I can't help that.”  
Ponder felt like his ears were burning.  
Over the years he had evolved a rather vivid imagination and therefore decided to distract himself by changing the topic.  
“How's your knee?” he babbled.  
“Much better than that curious article made it sound like, thank you. But, oh dear, you should see the lovely flowers I received from someone who worried for my welfare. It's almost a pity they were sent due to an exaggerated report.”  
Just nodding, still trying to get the images from his head, Ponder decided to watch his student talk to the Archchancellor, who, during that talk, occasionally glanced over at him. Something that worried the Head of the HEM Department quite a bit. And for that bit of distraction Stibbons was thankful right now.

What he wasn't so thankful for was that Ridcully suddenly waved him over.  
“Stibbons, your lad here is telling me you got something in your --What was that fancy word again? -- repertoire that could solve the poultry problem in a very spectacular way.”  
Ponder sent a brief glare at Skazz, who looked like the embodiment of innocence at the moment.  
“I have to admit, sir, there's indeed something.”  
“Why didn't you tell me?” Ridcully rubbed his hands, “I bet Henry and his lads haven't found a way to solve the problem yet. The more spectacular ours will be the better.”  
“But, sir...” Ponder attempted to protest.  
“But what, Stibbons? If I understood young Courtsbridge correctly it is working and it will be easy to bring it along.”  
A frown followed from the youngest member of the faculty, before a final straw emerged from his mind.  
“But there won't be a trophy left if we'd use the device in question.”  
That seemed to work. The Archchancellor appeared to be pondering these words and for a moment there was a glimpse of hope for the youngest member of the faculty.  
“Naw,” Ridcully then shattered that bit of hope, “We have someone from the Times with us. The iconograph of Henry's reaction to that thing succeeding where he failed will be a much more satisfying trophy.”  
Again Ponder looked past the Archchancellor, sending a scolding glare at his student. Skazz just shrugged.  
“Sir, I have to protest,” Stibbons dared. If he could stand up to the Archchancellor in a different reality he could very well try it here too, “It his highly unethical and there is no guarantee that it will work as Skazz might have described it. Aside from that it will delay our departure as at first I'd...we'd have to adjust the spells for it.”  
“Your student already informed me about that, Stibbons. He also claims all the adjustments and calculations could be done during the travel.”  
Again Ponder glared over at the student wizard, before sighing and giving in.  
“Fine,” he said.  
“Capital.” Ridcully patted him heavy on the back, nearly knocking him over. “Go and get that thing then.”  
With an annoyed grimace on his face Stibbons nodded and waved his student to follow.

  
“What was _that_ for?” He hissed the moment they left the Uncommon Room just as the Archchancellor started to call for the other wizards' attention to get the last things sorted.  
“What was what for?” Skazz asked innocently.  
“You know exactly what I mean, Sebastian. Why did you tell the Archchancellor about it? Didn't I already say we're NOT going to bring it along?”  
“Well, now we will.”  
Stopping dead in his tracks, Ponder turned and glared at the student.  
“This isn't funny, Sebastian.”  
Skazz raised his hands in defence.  
“I'm fully aware. And, man, calm down. I didn't tell him anything on purpose. What do you think of me?”  
“That you are a loudmouth and that it would be typically for you to try and get back on me for scolding you!”  
“ _What_?” Now Skazz seemed utterly offended, “For that? Ponder, yer ought t' know me better. The Archchancellor asked me for my opinion on how to handle things and I told him what was possible and what you were thinking. I just answered in all 'onesty.”  
The two young men glared at each other.

The scene would have had a greater effect if there would have been an eerie silence in the corridor, instead of the constant noise of arguments coming from the Uncommon Room, a sheep strolling down the path, several servants passing by either pushing trolleys with food or carrying baskets with clean laundry and chatting with each other when they came in groups and of course the sound of students somewhere nearby yet far enough away to not be seen. Which didn't keep them from watching the scene.

“Awkward, isn't it?” Skazz finally broke the silence between Ponder and him.  
“Yes,” the other answered after a pause, scratching his arm absent-mindedly.  
“Stress?”  
“A lot of it.” With a low frown Ponder took off his glasses to rub his eyes. “It's so much at once. Adrian, Pseudopolis, football, the article, my work here...”  
“I didn't know things upset you this much,” Skazz mumbled, sounding as if trying to apologise to the world in general, “If I had I would have kept quiet about that thing.”  
“But you _did_ tell him.”  
“As I said: he asked, I answered. I wouldn't have if I'd have known it'll get you closer to breaking point.”  
Ignoring the servants and students that had been staring curious at them Stibbons cleared his throat and straightened his clothes.  
“It's not breaking point yet. Only a major headache. Once this is over I shall take a day off and avail myself of the university's sauna and spa.”  
Skazz tilted his head and moved to follow Ponder down the corridor: “Since when do we have those?”  
“Since the pool was renovated.”  
The student smacked his lips and grinned as an idea struck him.  
“'Cause the school's swimming team needed a place to relax?” he purred.  
“Precisely.”

  
The package Stibbons and his student had loaded onto one of the coaches had attracted several odd views. After all, it seemed as if they were taking a six-foot-long tube with them. Whatever was wrapped up in thick cloth there increased the fare far enough to make the Archchancellor miraculously decide that it would very well be enough if only the qualified members of the faculty came along while the rest got to stay home.  
But much to Rincewind's annoyance he was counted as a qualified member.  
So now he sat grumbling in the coach, refusing to speak a single word aside from miffed grumbling.  
On the opposite side of the coach Ponder Stibbons was doing several thaumaturgic calculations or at least was trying to as right next to him the Archchancellor snored loudly. And next to Rincewind the student wizard was holding his ears.  
They had passed the city gates quite a while ago already and still Rincewind seriously considered jumping out of the coach and heading back home.  
But knowing his luck this would not work as either someone would hold him back, possibly Ridcully even waking up just in time to do that, or he'd be run over --or worse, picked up-- by the coach carrying the rest of the group driving behind them.  
And then there was, of course, something the Librarian --who got to stay home as he needed to keep an eye on the library as several books had been acting odd lately-- had pointed out:

If Rincewind would go to Pseudopolis now, he'd have 'Giant Chicken' off his list of 'Possibly, if not most certainly, deadly encounters.'

“Better he sleeps now than when we're trying to,” Stibbons whispered suddenly and nodded towards the Archchancellor, before chewing thoughtfully on his pencil.  
“How's it going?” Skazz asked, leaning forward to look at Ponder's writings.  
“Slow. It was easier when it was sheep.”  
Rincewind looked up. “Sheep?”  
“We had a similar problem once. You remember the sheep invasion, as the student body called it?”  
The Egregious Professor of Cruel and Unusual Geography leaned back, trying to remember.  
“Oh, that,” he finally said. “Have you actually found all of them by now?”  
“No.” Ponder looked back down at his calculations, erasing a line and furrowing his brow.  
“I wish we'd had the exact size of that chicken.” He tapped the pencil onto the paper a few times. He hated it, but he had to go with approximate values.  
“Well, as long as the maximum deviation from the actual value is less than twenty-seven-point-three percent,” he started all of a sudden, rather talking to himself than to the two other men that were listening, “the chances for unforeseen violent expansion should be below four-point-one...”  
While he continued Rincewind leaned towards the student, looking hopelessly lost.  
“If Ponster guessed the chicken's size correctly it won't explode so easily when we use our little baby on it,” Skazz answered, earning a brief glare from Stibbons.  
“What? I'm just translating.”  
Ponder frowned at the words and stuffed his notes back into his bag.  
“I should work on this once my head stops feeling like a wet sponge,” he moaned and rubbed his temples.    
“Professor Rincewind?” the student babbled that very second, causing Rincewind to lean away a bit.  
“Yes...?”  
“Could you switch seats with Ponster?” Sebastian cracked his knuckles, “He needs a massage.”  
Rincewind raised a brow. And raised it even further as he saw Stibbons blushing.  
“Oh, Ponster,” the student smiled. “It's only something to have you relax a bit. You need it. We'll be travelling for quite some time.”  
“I can wait till we're stopping for a break.”  
“And it would be something to kill time. Besides, you keep rubbing your neck, I saw that.”  
Letting his eyes wander from his student, who seemed eager, to Rincewind, who seemed lost again, and back, Ponder gave in with a deep sigh, rising from his seat.  
“Fine, fine.”  
He switched seats with Rincewind and turned his back at the student.  
What followed then caused Rincewind to stare at the two younger men in honest amazement. He had seen many things, but up to that point he would have never guessed such thing as what he just witnessed was possible by a simple massage in the neck area.  
Well, at least young Stibbons was relaxed and sleeping, his head resting on Skazz's shoulder, peacefully now. It was only to hope the Archchancellor was sleeping just as soundly and didn't noticed anything of what had happened since he had fallen asleep.  
Taking another look at the student, who looked pretty satisfied with his work and was occasionally patting his sleeping mentor on the head, Rincewind decided whatever was to come would, as usual, be a lot worse than even he could imagine.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter contains mild acts of male to male homosexuality (Nothing explicit), a minor case of what by wide definition would be animal cruelty and an instance of gaelic.

It was unsettling.  
The books in the University's library had been fidgety for the past few days.  
If wizards were like canaries in a coalmine when it came to thaumaturgical fields, the books were highly-developed gas-detectors.  
The Librarian had been on his job for most of his life. He therefore had been witness to the books behaving like that already.  
Back when the red star stood in the sky and when the last Sourcerer had been around.  
Probably 'unsettling' was not the right word after all.  
And what the Librarian had just done was not something he liked doing. Namely breaking into the HEM to talk with Hex while Stibbons was away.  
Well, it wasn't so much 'breaking into' as the lads always forgot to lock the door.  
The one on the roof that is.  
Speaking in orang-utan terms they left the front door open.  
But then Hex had mentioned he wasn't feeling well right now either and that he was...scared.  
No, unsettling was definitely not the right word.

Several hours later and about the distance two coaches full of wizards can manage in that time away, night had fallen. And as it was late anyway it was decided not to get up before the morning.  
The wizards had stopped at a small inn by the road to get a good night of sleep in actual beds instead of the rattling and shaking vehicle.  
But while everyone else was sleeping(1) Ponder Stibbons lay awake, being gloomy. Not his usual gloominess, but one that got him to the verge of tears.  
\-----------------------------------  
(1) Everyone except Rincewind, who was making an attempt to get away, hide, and find a rather safe passage home once the others had left, and the Archchancellor, who was keeping him from just that.  
\-----------------------------------  
After staring at the ceiling of the small, dark room long enough to have lights dance before his eyes he rolled to his side and nudged Skazz, who was sleeping next to him.  
The answer was an annoyed murmur which grew into an even more annoyed grunt after the third prod.  
Finally the student rolled over to face his mentor, even though seeing more than maybe a faint outline in these light conditions was out of the question.  
"What?" Sebastian complained.  
"Am I really that bad?"  
"Yes, Ponster, you are. Now lemme sleep."  
Skazz rolled over again, snuggled into the bed but then turned his attention back to the man next to him.  
"No pillow?"  
"Pillow?"  
"After such a dialogue I'd have expec- ," Skazz yawned, "expected you'd hit me with one." There was worry growing in his voice. "What's wrong?"  
"I've been thinking."  
"Ye rarely don't."  
In the darkness Ponder smiled faintly.  
"Do people really see me as that article depicts me, Sebastian?"  
"Humorless, stuck-up, self-righteous, order- and organisation-obsessed, egoistic, incompetent and a hopeless and annoying know-it-all?"  
Stibbons winced and sunk deeper under the blanket.  
"Am I like that?" he asked carefully.  
"To be 'onest, Ponster: You've been. But you grew since that."  
Skazz sighed and reached out to pat his friend and mentor on the head, slowly and reassuring caressing Ponder's cheek and a scar where a bit of the ear was missing.  
"Why does that bother you?"  
Ponder whimpered as his student moved a finger over the scar. Damn it, Skazz knew just too well how sensitive that spot was.  
"It's... Tomorrow we'll reach Pseudopolis, help Adrian and go home again. I nor...hwaa...normally wouldn't mind it, but with that article around I...Reading it made me feel as if I am looking at myself through someone else's eye...hwaa...eyes."  
Again Sebastian murmured, carefully rubbing the sensitive flesh between his fingers, causing the older man to whimper softly.  
"Do go on," he purred as he felt Ponder squirm slightly under his touch.  
"That...article..." Stibbons moaned quietly, but let his student proceed, "I know that article is a mess, but nonetheless it...hwaa..." Here Ponder bit the pillow to suppress a louder moan as Skazz had suddenly pinched the ear.  
"It what?" the student asked all innocent, "Don't mind me, do get it off your chest."  
"It opened a window to...ahh...to an alternate reality. And I...got the im-...impression the... the Ponder there... withheld vital information on...on purpose...ha...hazarding the possible consequences out of...of pure...pure...ego-...."  
There was a very peculiar sound followed by ragged gasping from Stibbons and a muffled chuckle from the student.  
"That sure is a sensitive spot ye 'ave there, Ponster," Skazz whispered, feeling how his mentor squirmed on his side of the bed. Ponder just grumbled and was thankful that is was too dark that anyone could see how red his cheeks were again. Though for a moment he felt as if they were flushed enough to actually glow brightly.  
Again he mumbled something and sighed, feeling Skazz's hand on the side of his head again.  
"I think I know what ye mean," the student whispered. "That other Ponder seems too self-absorbed to see Drongo --or anyone else-- as a friend."  
This was answered with an agreeing sound and a low mumble as Skazz ruffled the older man's hair.  
"Not to mention that, as I apparently don't exist in that reality for some reason, it's impossible that that other Ponder ever experienced the lovely little foursome consisting of you, Drongo, Tez and me."  
For that Ponder boxed his student on the shoulder, grumbling.  
"If I get cold feet from all the blood rushing into my cheeks," he threatened, "I know on who I'll warm them."  
Skazz winced but huddled up to Ponder playfully once the older man had rolled over.  
Stibbons just sighed, reached back and patted his student on the head.  
"Good night, Sebastian."

As narrative causality mandates the next morning felt to have come far too early. As least to some of the wizards.  
The most obvious were Ponder Stibbons and his student.  
Ponder had been up first and was now on his way downstairs for breakfast, dressed in an attire that surely would get him a light scolding about those clothes not being fit for a wizards from the Archchancellor. But Stibbons was much too tired and too hungry to change into usual clothes already. So he stayed in what he slept in. There weren't many other guests at the inn anyway.  
"Ponster?" Skazz came more or less waddling down the corridor behind his mentor, hair tied back again.  
"Yes?"  
"I wanted to apologise for last night. What I said wasn't really thought-through."  
Ponder pushed his glasses in place.  
"It's quite alright. You managed to point out some things and you distracted me from the things I worried about."  
Sebastian smiled softly.  
"But I didn't really answer your question," he said then, taking a deep breath. "You're in no way like that other Ponder. Maybe some folks see ye like that, but I know that there's a great heart beating in your chest."  
For a moment Stibbons smiled shyly, looking up at his student.  
And Skazz smiled back.  
"You shouldn't bother yourself with things like that, Ponster."  
The older man smiled and nodded his head towards the stairs to signal his student that they should go and get some breakfast.  
"But ye know..." Sebastian started, tilting his head as they walked along the corridor. "I had to think 'bout that other reality too."  
Ponder braced himself. Skazz might be very intelligent in theory --according to a test they once took out of curiousity his IQ was even two points higher than Ponder's-- but his thoughts tended to be one tangled, hard to unravel mess. If he announced he'd been thinking, one was in for a ride most of the times.  
"And I sometimes wonder what keeps you awake at night..." Stibbons mumbled, waiting for his student to continue.  
Skazz blinked.  
"Coffee, good books or Adrian. But what has that to do with what I just said?"  
Ponder bit his tongue.  
"Nothing, go on."  
"Well, how can it be that neither Tez nor meself exist in that reality, yet Hex does? I mean, someone had to build his basics."  
"Maybe the other Adrian or that other I did." Stibbons shrugged. "Or the other you did build it and then had to leave the university earlier than you had to here."  
"Yes, but wouldn't both possibility mean both of the other you and Drongo would have to have some idea of how to actually do that kind of advanced contrivancing? Which then again would mean the other Adrian would have had to remember rebuilding that interface, as to rebuild something like Hex, he would have been aware of that bloody little thing we here only noticed by chance and at first had no idea what it was doing there? Heck, it's a yellow-spotted, purple piggy bank," the student continued musing as they walked downstairs. "And by the way, what DID happen with Tez here? Haven't seen 'im for a while even before I left."  
Ponder cleared his throat.  
"Matthias joined the school choir," he said.  
"And you _let_ him?" Sebastian drew a face that spoke of shock and memories that could best be filed under 'confusing.' "We're talking 'bout Tez the Terrible here. As if his ability to pop up out of nowhere without any magic wasn't creepy enough already. Joining the school-choir likely turned that up to eleven."  
Ponder scratched his head, murmured something, yawned and opened the door to the little room where breakfast was being served.

Of course, breakfast at a common roadside inn was in no way comparable to the one at the Unseen University.  
"I'll get dressed adequately once I've eaten something, sir," he mumbled the moment Ridcully had drawn in some air to comment on the clothes Ponder was wearing.  
The Archchancellor nodded with a huff.  
"But make sure you do before the gentleman from the Times wakes and sees you like that," he said. "We're wizards. We have to retain a certain standard."  
Heavily Stibbons slumped down in a chair, got himself a helping of scrambled eggs and sighed.  
These were the times when he seriously wondered what exactly made a wizard a wizard.  
He was almost thirty now, had achieved the record score of 100% at the exam (2), held the majority of votes in the council, was hopelessly overworked but had managed to maybe discover more about magic, life, the universe and everything than any wizard before him. (3)  
And yet no one would believe him that he was a wizard if he wasn't wearing a pointy hat.  
But even then people might comment on his lack of beard.  
It was demotivating so very often.  
\----------------------------------  
(2) Twice, actually. After the initial one consisted of nothing else than the question 'What's your name' he had felt guilty and had taken the test again. And then also achieved the biggest hangover in the university's history after celebrating scoring 100% again.  
(3) Maybe except for Rincewind, but to Ponder that didn't count as Rincewind never wrote things down. To which Rincewind would answer that writing findings down keeps one from running away from them.  
\----------------------------------  
"By the way, Ponster," Skazz dragged Stibbons from his thoughts, "If you'd really been like that you in the article Professor Rincewind might have gotten violent towards you."  
"What?"  
"I would?" Rincewind --as well as the other wizards-- looked up rather confused.  
"Remember you once said you might get uncharacteristically violent if Ponder would ever start acting more like...wossname... that guy you went to university with and who tried to read all the spells from the Octavo."  
Rincewind's face went blank.  
"Ymper Trymon," he said dryly. "Yes... Yes, I think the Ponder from that article's pretty much like him. And yes, I might actually go and take action. Can't have such a thing as back then twice."  
He shuddered, trying to stuff memories back into their box and continued eating, as well as the others.  
Except for Professor Macarona, who, despite his knee, joined --or better had to join-- the trek as the problem had, after all, something to do with his fields of teaching.  
"Could someone enlighten me?" he tried.  
"'Twas a wizard and Archchancellor for a short while about thirty years ago," Rincewind started, chewing on his food as if it was the cause of all his worries. He went on with explaining, but after a certain while Stibbons felt as if the older wizard was actually talking about him.  
"I...should go and get dressed..." Ponder suddenly excused himself, rose and hurried upstairs.  
Almost knocking over one of the maids on his way, as it's always in these situations.  
There was a moment of silence among the other wizards.  
"He's pretty knackered," the Senior Wrangler then commented.  
"No wonder," Macarona mumbled, sending Skazz a knowing wink. "Has been a long night for him I think."  
The student in return send him a stony glare and drew a face that indicated he was just not kicking the genuan wizard's injured knee under the table out of courtesy.  
"Has been a long night for the Archchancellor and Professor Rincewind, too," the Lecturer in Recent Runes interrupted, shaking his head. "And they're both fine."  
"Mister Courtsbridge," the Archchancellor interfered at this point, "You shared the room with him. Any idea what's on his mind this time?"  
"He's worried 'bout the current situation, sir."  
"The usual, then." Ridcully nodded and reached over the table to not let Stibbons' breakfast go to waste. "Mister Courtsbridge, perhaps you should go upstairs, too. You need to get dressed as well and as you're standing a good six-foot-six tall that might take a while."  
The student raised his head and a brow, before he nodded quickly, following Ponder to their room.  
Sometimes he wondered how much of Ridcully's general behaviour was in fact just playing a role.

As he expected he found Ponder sitting on the bed, half-dressed, playing absent-mindedly with his glasses.  
"You got the old man t' worry, Ponster," Sebastian said, closing the door behind him. "And me too."  
"I already told you I'll be fine, Sebastian. It's all just a bit much, as said."  
"And that Macarona-guy is not helping," Skazz lamented and sat down on the bed.  
"What did he do?"  
"I think he thinks we had sex last night."  
Ponder flushed furiously, trying to shake that idea off.  
"He didn't say it out loud," the student calmed his mentor, "But I know when someone thinks like that. Heck, if I would have heard you last night without knowing you I might have thought that too."  
Shaking his head eagerly and all puffed up Stibbons pouted.  
"With a _student_? Really now," he said.  
"Or with anyone at all," Skazz teased, grinning. "But don't think about that too much, Ponster."  
"With all the problems on my mind another one wouldn't make a difference."  
Carefully laying and arm around the older man Skazz sighed.  
"You should not let things get you down like this. 'specially the thing 'bout your personality and how other's see ye. You're not like that Ponder from the article. Ye know," he smiled encouragingly, "Maybe that guy is there to cosmically outbalance your awesomeness."  
Stibbons looked up, grinning askew.  
"Do you really think it wise to pet my ego like that, Sebastian?"  
"Nay, but we have to blow up a giant chicken. And blowing stuff up always works better when in a good mood."  
Ponder tilted his head, wondering if he should dare to ask whether or not his student spoke from experience. He decided not to.  
After all, there was that thing about the tea-trolley. And gods beware if anyone of the remaining faculty should ever find out 'bout that...

Much, much later the group had long left the inn again and was nearing Pseudopolis.  
And even though Archchancellor Ridcully was relieved to see Stibbons in a better mood again, it concerned him a bit how merrily the young wizard and his student were throwing around all those fancy terms, hunched over their calculations.  
"There." Stibbons straightened and put the notebook back in his pocket. "All set."  
"Bravo." Ridcully nodded, appreciatively. "But, a word, Stibbons. Are you really going to repair that machine of theirs?"  
Ponder pushed his glasses back up his nose.  
"Honour as a natural philosopher demands it, sir. And, if I may be honest, in the long run it does open some very interesting possibilities."  
"I really don't know, Stibbons. You spent years developing Hex. And now young Turnipseed went and basically stole everything. Don't tell me you are not angry at him for that."  
"We...had this talk, sir."  
There was a certain sound of displeasure in Ponder's voice, which got his student's attention.  
And Skazz was rather certain that his mentor was miffed at Adrian. But he knew just as well that that was something the two had to settle among themselves. Which wouldn't keep him from being there to prevent worse things than shouting from happening.  
There wasn't time to say something in that matter anyway, as the coach suddenly stopped.  
Where it had stopped the road led down a hill overlooking the city. And therefore, of course, the giant chicken that had apparently made itself comfortable on the town square.  
The wizards looked at the thing for a moment in honest disbelief.  
They had seen many things already, but rarely did those have such an absurd touch to them.  
"Well, look who it is," Ponder suddenly exclaimed, stepping from the coach and, eager to see if he would actually manage it, whistled sharply on his fingers.  
A bit down the road stood what, by some people with far too much good will, might have been called a welcoming committee.  
There was, of course, the former Dean, Adrian, and a young man with curly black hair Ponder's inner almanack identified as Charlie Drinkie.  
As Ponder had somehow expected only Adrian and Charlie looked hopelessly sleep-deprived.  
Yet they both raised their heads first at the whistle.  
The carriages stopped and Stibbons had barely stepped from the one he'd been on when Adrian came stomping towards him like the very embodiment of indignation, waving a newspaper.  
"I dearly hope for you that you have an explanation for this...this..." Turnipseed smacked the paper with the back of his hand, glaring at Ponder.  
The older wizard couldn't help but take a step back. Adrian was normally as meek and prudent as Ponder himself, but the two were also pretty alike when it came to fits of rage.  
"Your bloody paper makes me look like a total idiot!"  
"I'm not responsible for the articles."  
There were probably better things to answer. There were probably also better places to be right now.  
"They interviewed you!"  
"They messed up the articles!" Now Ponder resorted to using exclamation marks too.  
Adrian opened his mouth to say something when he looked past Stibbons and paled.  
Ponder turned to see what was wrong and saw that, as the last of the bunch, Skazz had stepped from the coach.  
"Why you..." Ponder heard Adrian hiss and turned his attention from his current to his former student.  
Turnipseed trembled, glaring at him, fists clenched with rage.  
It was likely that, if the former Dean hadn't interrupted things that moment, things might not have ended without injuries.  
"Well, look who finally had the kindness to show up", he said, or better sneered, mainly at Ridcully.  
"I thought things aren't as urgent, Henry. Your latest clacks message made it sound as if things were under control and that, and I quote, _'Some UU wizards to assist those of Brazeneck to take care of this small problem a bit faster might not be a wrong idea nonetheless'_. Don't tell me your seventy-foot 'small' problem has proven too much for a wizard of your rank after all."  
"It has settled down in town square a while ago. I thought a few additional hands when it comes to cleaning up-"  
" _Cleaning up_?" Ridcully huffed. "Why should we clean up a mess we haven't made? Not to mention the mess you want cleaned up hasn't even been made yet. You're still fiddling with your poultry problem."  
And bickering ensued.  
Ponder and Adrian took this as cue to continue their own quarrel about the newspaper and that, according to young Turnipseed, Ponder wanted to ruin his reputation out of spite.  
"Here we go again," Rincewind groaned and decided to climb back into the vehicle.  
The other wizards watched the two groups quarrel, till Skazz suddenly marched up to Ponder and Adrian, grabbed them by a shoulder each and turned them towards Ridcully and the former Dean.  
"Gentlemen," he singsang to the two young wizards with a smirk, "your future."  
They stood for a moment, the implication wandering through Stibbons' and Turnipseed's brains. Then those two grimaced, hastily shook hands and babbled away apologies.  
"I might have overreacted a bit."  
"So did I, Adrian, so did I. Never meant to insult or harm you..."  
"Friends?"  
"Friends."  
They nodded eagerly and tried to banish certain thoughts from their heads, shuddering.  
"Excellent", Sebastian smiled.  
There was a bit of silence between the three young wizards. Silence with a constant background noise provided by the two Archchancellors still bickering.  
"You look awkwardly overworked", Ponder finally said, looking over at the chicken in the town square, trying to avoid Adrian's gaze.  
Another way the two young wizards were very much alike: the rather short duration of their fits of rage.  
"I am", Turnipseed yawned, rubbing his face.  
"How many times have you tried getting rid of El Pollo Grande so far?"  
Turnipseed scratched his arms embarrassed.  
"Over nine thousand or so...", he sheepishly admitted.  
Both, Ponder and Skazz mouthed an unbelieving 'What' and shook their heads. Turnipseed shrugged.  
"No idea," he said, "It's just that nothing seemed to work. Till a few hours ago it even had its gender switched due to one of the spells we tried."  
"Skazz, shut up.", Stibbons chuntered the moment the student opened his mouth.  
Skazz, understandably, pouted. And then looked sad at Adrian who started chewing his lower lip guiltily and took a step away from the student as he noticed the look.  
"We have brought something", Ponder announced, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.  
"And what?", Adrian asked.  
"Bea."  
For a moment young Turnipseed stood with his mouth agape and then squealed rejoicing. A sound that pulled the two Archchancellors from their argy-bargy.  
Ridcully raised a hand to wave one of the lads over and after a brief discussion amongst the three Skazz walked up.  
"Yes, sir?"  
"Did young Turnipseed just squeal?"  
"Yes, sir."  
The former Dean blinked slowly: "Why?"  
"No idea, ArchChancellor Porter. I think Drongo's sanity is waving bye-bye due to lack of sleep. Saw it with Ponster quite a few times."  
The two older wizards exchanged looks, not really certain what to make of this information.  
"Well", Ridcully finally said, "Do go on then...do go on..."  
As the lad turned the Archchancellor of the UU raised a brow and glanced to the side. Henry apparently hadn't noticed it, but the way the student pronounced the title when addressing him had a clear emphasis on the second 'c', even if there had been a capital 'A' as well.  
Calling the Head of Brazeneck 'ArchChancellor' was maybe not the best compromise, but Ridcully could live with that.  
"Who was that?", Henry asked as Skazz walked back to the others and then over to the coach, where they pulled down the package.  
"Sebastian Courtsbridge. One of Ponder's team you didn't manage to --How would you call it?-- _recruit_. Very clever lad, it seems. A bit of a loudmouth, maybe, but I see nothing wrong with him."  
"Oh, I don't know, Mustrum. I think I remember the lad. Yes...yes I do. He took a pan to 'Poor Scholar's' once and beat back the stale bread we threw."  
Ridcully's face suddenly brightened. THAT he remembered.  
"Knocked me out with one of the loaves," the former Dean continued, watching the three younger men setting up some sort of device. "And he was supposed to get suspended for that. I never understood why you let him run free."  
If any encyclopedia ever needed a picture for the definition of 'Look of utter innocence' taking an iconograph of Ridcully that very moment would have been an excellent idea.  
"In any case, Mustrum, whatever the lads are doing there there, I doubt that you have a solution to this either."  
"Do shut up for a moment, Henry, will you. I am admiring your problem."  
The other man huffed and Ridcully took a pipe from his hat, packed and lit it and casually walked over to the three youngest wizards, followed closely by Henry and Adrian's student Drinkie.  
Ponder, Adrian and Skazz had in the meantime unloaded and unwrapped whatever it was they called 'Bea'.  
It seemed like an ordinary, if quite neatly decorated sewer pipe with a trigger on one side.  
Drinkie gave in to the urge to ask.  
"Oh, what's that?"  
"It's a bazooka," the other young wizards answered in unison.  
"And it does exactly what?", Charlie continued, looking amazed and curious.  
"It fires spells at a high velocity," Adrian explained.  
"You can't increase the speed of a single spell, young man." The Senior Wrangler interrupted as the rest of the group slowly gathered around them.  
"Well, the spells are induced into a projectile the device fires, sir. They are unleashed upon impact." Skazz continued Adrian's explanation as Ponder kneeled down, lifted the device onto his shoulder and aimed for the giant chicken.  
The former Dean huffed.  
"I doubt it will work," he said, "It's just another simple spell in the end. An explosive one, perhaps, but just another simple one nonetheless. We tried dozens of those. Turnipseed, didn't you say there's likely too much chicken for spells to wo-"  
The rest was cut off under the sound of an explosion as the thing was fired and another one as the projectile hit the creature.  
And as narrative causality and the laws of humour mandate there were feathers falling down over the wizards, no matter that they stood quite a distance away. ArchChancellor Porter, the Lecturer in Recent Runes and the gentleman from the Times even spat out some feathers.  
Something which didn't keep latter from taking a few pictures.  
As the smoke slowly cleared the three youngest wizard nodded satisfied.  
"Well, now it's probably too many chickens," Ponder said, looking at the dozens of multicoloured chickens. "And bugger...I knew we were off in the calculations somewhere."  
"What's wrong?", Charlie Drinkie had shuffled closer.  
"We were aiming for a white chicken that laid multicoloured eggs, Charlie," Adrian explained. "Seems we got it the wrong way round...Pity."  
Ponder sighed in response.  
"But now for the cleaning up." He said, turning. "Archchancellor?", he called out, realising a moment too late that that wasn't the best choice of words.  
Of course, both, Ridcully, who had been picking feathers from his pipe, and the former Dean looked up.  
"Yes?", they responded, glared at each other a wink later and Ponder frowned.  
"I meant the older one."  
Again he realised that wasn't good either, as again they both answered.  
"Now how do I get out of this one?", he mumbled to himself, rubbing his temples.  
"I meant Archchancellor Ridcully," he then said aloud.  
"As I thought, lad. What is it?"  
"I wanted to suggest we split the group now", Ponder motioned his hand around. "One group goes back to Brazeneck to have a look at the machine, while the other goes and tried to catch as many chicken as they can. That second group can later be joined by wizards and students from Brazeneck."  
"Excellent idea, Stibbons. Macarona, you best come with us, can't have you running around with your knee like that. And Rincewind... Rincewind I KNOW you're hiding there, come out...There's a good man. Rincewind, you take Runes, the Senior Wrangler and the gentleman from the Times and see that you get into the city and catch some fowl."  
Rincewind grumbled and saluted.  
"Oh, and, Rincewind, as the chickens are needed, make sure your infernal chest doesn't eat any of them," the Archchancellor of Brazeneck added as the Luggage had jumped down from the coach, delightfully stretching and scratching itself.  
"Yes, sir..." Rincewind mumbled, knowing if anything he might be able to make the Luggage leave a few chickens uneaten.  
The group around Rincewind went off down a small footpath leading straight to the city gates while the remaining wizards climbed back into the coach. Well the older ones at least.  
Ponder, Adrian and their students had decided to walk to the university, as they needed to discuss a few things. And discussing was easier in fresh air. Especially when there were no senior wizards around.

"It really is a pity we got that bit of the calculation wrong," Ponder admitted as the coaches rattled away and they started walking.  
"That was still very impressive, sirs." Charlie looked admiringly. "May I ask how exactly that was done?"  
The other three looked at each other and finally shrugged.  
"It's actually nothing special," Ponder started explaining. "There are several spells infused into the projectile which get cast at once or at a rapid sequence and in various directions upon impact."  
"I assume it also makes use of the shock and stun from said impact?"  
"That too. That'd be of use majorly if you'd have fired it at a target that could cast counterspells. But I think it's also neat to keep the target from coming after you."  
"Amazing."  
Suddenly Drinkie stopped, looking as if he just remembered he left the cooker on. Or would have looked like that if there'd been electric or gas cookers to be left on on the Disc. But you get the idea.  
He hastily held out a hand to Ponder Stibbons.  
"I just realized I haven't introduced myself yet, sir. Charlie Drinkie. It's an honour to finally meet you in person."  
Ponder smiled, not unflattered and shook the offered hand.  
"Ponder Stibbons. But you already know that. I'm equally honoured. Your discoveries were a giant leap for all natural philosophers. And this," he waved at Skazz, "Is Mister Sebastian Courtsbridge."  
For a moment Charlie seemed to be short of air.  
"You're the originator of Hex!" he then exclaimed, his face glowing, "And the inventor of the subphase paradox inducer. I can't believe I get to meet two of the most important natural philosophers at the same time."  
Now even Skazz blushed flattered, undoing his ponytail to hide his face.  
"Well," he then said, "You're part o' those ranks as well. Not t' mention you..." his voice went a bit more silent suddenly, "Work with one o' that league..."  
Drinkie turned his attention towards Adrian, who decided to speed up a bit.  
"We...should hurry a bit nonetheless," he spoke, his voice deprived of any emotion. "We got a lot of work to do."  
The others followed Turnipseed, who rather stalked ahead, occasionally yawning, with a bit of distance. Not because his behaviour worried them in anyway --at least two of them were unfazed by it-- but walking and talking at the same time, especially about technomantic matters, could prove much harder to do than sleeping and walking.(4) Not to mention they weren't indoors.  
Occasionally Adrian looked back over his shoulder, quickly turning his head back each time.

After quite a while and the point where the professional talks shifted to discussions about the two universities (5) the group arrived at the, actually pretty, if slightly damaged gates of Brazeneck.  
\---------------------------------  
(4) A fine art every student had down pat as long as he made sure to not exceed a certain level of fatigue.  
(5) And according to Sebastian Brazeneck gained a bonus-point for having an ArchChancellor one could drink.  
\---------------------------------  
"This 'asn't always been an university, 'as it?" Skazz, who had meanwhile tied his hair back again, inquired, looking up at the building and then at Adrian, who yawned heartily.  
"It's formerly been a summer palace," Drinkie explained. "Till the city's borders got too close to it and a new one was built over in the hills."  
"Very nice," Sebastian started, but before he got further Ponder lifted his hand to stop any word from his student.  
"Sebastian, I don't want to hear one comment about the Patrician and the palace from you now."  
"Why not?" the student sneered, crossing his arms, "We're in Pseudopolis, Ponster. And I'm from Hergen. Why hold back?"  
Ponder looked around and motioned his head towards the reporter from the Times nearby.  
Skazz nodded briefly, shrugged and wandered off as the man came walking over to the group, asking for additional interviews and perhaps a little guided tour over the campus.  
"Able?" Turnipseed called out for nearby wizard, "Take Thursley and show this gentleman from the Times around," he turned to Stibbons, "Charlie can show you the machine. I'll go and get some sleep..."  
"That's actually one of the brightest ideas you had in the past few months." Ponder couldn't resist to tease his former student.  
Adrian raised a brow.  
"What was that phrase Skazz taught us?" he snuffled, "Póg mo thóin!"  
With a long yawn and after sticking his tongue at Ponder, who mirrored the move, showing things weren't as serious as one might think, he moved away from the group, walking bits of the way with his eyes closed.  
Given how sleep-deprived he was, he walked straight into a wall after a while.  
He yowled briefly and rubbed his head, frowning and cursing under his breath.  
"How's 'bout you walk first and sleep once ye reached yer bed?" a voice sounded behind him and Adrian turned, flushing madly.  
"Sk...Skazz."  
They both stood there for a moment, looking at each other while keeping a certain distance.  
"It's...been a while," Adrian started sheepishly, trying to avoid the other's gaze.  
"Yes..."  
"You're alright?"  
"Pretty much. You?"  
"Can't complain."  
Following the unwritten laws of storytelling, Adrian, after a moment of awkward silence and the realisation they were all alone in the corridor, leaped forward, flung his arms around the student and they kissed longingly.  
That kiss lasted for a moment, before turning into a hungry smooching.  
"Good gods, I missed you," Adrian finally gasped as he had the chance, though unwilling to end their activity. "I...I'm sorry to...to have avoided you the whole time."  
"Hush," Skazz breathed, moving his lips over the other's throat, "Can hardly pounce each other in public, now can we?"  
Turnipseed chuckled, moaning briefly at the other man's touch.  
"Wish we could," he sighed, to which Sebastian looked up, smiling softly and sad.  
"You know I wish for that too," he whispered, kissing the other's forehead. "But you know how it is."  
Adrian leaned his head against Skazz's chest, sighing as well.  
"I know. Will that ever change?"  
"We can only hope. We can only ho-" the last word was cut off and Adrian noticed that his, well, lover, was standing frozen in fear.  
He turned his head and could almost feel the colour fading from his face.  
"Charlie..." he at least managed to address the student who was standing there, staring at them in disbelief.  
"I...I should perhaps come back later," Drinkie stuttered, turning around again.  
"Charlie! Wait!" Adrian squirmed from Skazz' embrace, rushed forward and grabbed his student by the arm.  
He tried to say something a few times, but only managed to stare at Drinkie scared, his whole frame shaking.  
"Sir?"  
Turnipseed swallowed, his lips trembling.  
"Charlie...please..." he just shook his head slowly, words failing him.  
"You...don't want me to tell anyone about this, do you?"  
"I beg you..."  
Drinkie took a step back as his professor let go off his arm and looked at the two men before him.  
He didn't know what to think of this sort of revelation about people he looked up to, but he knew two things.  
First, what had their sexuality to do with their skills and intellect? Yes, they were both wizards, but sex had no influence on thaumaturgical skills.  
And second, they both looked mortally scared now.  
"Sir, I..." Drinkie took a deep breath and stuck out his chest, nodding. "I won't. Trust me."  
Adrian stared at his student for a moment before sighing relieved and heartily hugging the lad.  
"Thank you," he whispered, letting the young man go again.  
"But..." Charlie dared as his professor went back to the taller student, gently taking that one's hand in his.  
"Yes?" for a brief moment Skazz and Adrian looked just as scared as moments before.  
"I...came here looking for you as we're having problems with Pex again." he said, seeing with a bit of relief how tension seemed to fall off the two other men, "Mister Stibbons said there isn't much that needs to be repaired and that the machine should actually work fine without the damaged parts. But when we wanted to do a test-run Pex just wouldn't start, no matter what we did."  
Turnipseed rolled his eyes and sighed.  
"Not again."  
"Not again what?" Sebastian asked, tilting his head, now pouting slightly at Drinkie's interruption of his and Adrian's reunion.  
"When we initially built Pex it wouldn't start up for days. But then all of a sudden it was running one morning. No one knew why."  
"Well, you _are_ using chickens, Drongo. You know from where the delay can come."  
"I know, I know. Guess we have to take a look at it."  
They both sighed agreeing and, as they followed Charlie, both hoped silently that there later would be a chance to continue where they left off.


	4. Chapter 4

“This is just ridiculous!” 

With an angry huff Ponder climbed from the bowels of the machine. Originally, when it was clear they'd lend a helping hand to their  brethren in Pseudopolis, he  _had_ planned to simply have a look at the machine, see what Adrian had managed to remember, maybe point out this and that if it was needed to get the machine running but not do anything beyond that.

After all, at brass tacks Adrian DID betray their group.

But Stibbons had quickly passed that state of mind and had become eager to get the dreaded thing to work, taking its unwillingness to function despite everything necessary being in place as a personal affront.

And now, as the deepest part of the night was reached, he was standing in front of the quite huge apparatus, with his sleeves rolled up, shirt, shoes, open waistcoat and trousers stained with dust and oil and his robe and hat laying neatly on the side for quite a while.

In short, he had by now given up to look at the matter from a plain wizard's point of view and decided to approach it as a... He didn't fully know as what he was approaching it, but it was certainly not as a wizard.

And by now he was working on it alone. Adrian and Skazz had wandered off after Adrian collapsed due to  over-fatigue; Charlie and Dr . Baker had left for the city about an hour or so ago and only a short while back Professor Macarona had left for bed as well.

Though working alone didn't mean Ponder was alone in the room.

“I say it's broken beyond repair or the machine realised that Hex is superior to it.”

Of course Archchancellor Ridcully was sitting there for some reason, watching the youngest member of his faculty work.

And that wasn't helping.

What was helping even less was the fact that ArchChancellor --as Skazz pronounced it-- Porter was present too. Likely to keep an eye on Stibbons so there would be no attempt to sabotage Brazeneck. And maybe Ridcully was just here to keep an eye on the former Dean in return. In retrospect it was actually pretty hard to tell who of the two had which reason to be here.

In any case their constant bickering and snappy remarks towards each other were a nuisance to any person who tried to concentrate on something.

Ponder decided to ignore his Archchancellor's comment and just silently counted the seconds till Mr . Porter's response.

“Pah! And I say your lad is just not trying, Mustrum.”

... Three ...

“My lad keeps working on your dreaded heap of rubbish long after your lads have given up.”

“Because I am here to keep an eye on him. I bet you and your bunch would have snuck off long time if you'd have been given the chance.”

“Sirs!” Ponder suddenly spun around. “With all due respect, but I am doing this out of my honour as  a  natural philosopher and because Adrian's still my friend. And because he is my friend I will not stand listening to anyone claiming that he gave up. You saw him collapse because he neglect ed his sleep in order to get this machine working again. If he'd have stayed up any longer he might have snapped. He deserves to get a good night of sleep, gentlemen, no matter what you may make of that. Skazz went with him to make sure Adrian's well and he has a right to do that just as well. As for Charlie and Dr . Baker, they went to help in the city. And I am certain that every hand, especially if it can do magic, is needed there right now.”

For a moment the two senior wizards looked taken aback. Such  a  tone from Stibbons w as still something very, very rare. Though the silence only lasted till Ponder turned around again, looking the apparatus up and down once more.

Ignoring the restarting bickering , his mind raced.

Everything needed  _was_ in place. He knew Pex didn't ha ve an FTB, so that couldn't be it. Not to mention that they  _did_ try that as well.

The machine had been working before. It should start just fine. Granted, the morphic resonation field might have collapsed after the accident, but the chickens were back and yet... Ponder frowned and looked to the small coop. This couldn't be it, could it? Well, establishing the field needed a bit of order... When they started Pex the first time the chickens were likely a bit scatterbrained, just as when they came back to the university now. And now the fowl was...

“You've got to be kidding me!” Stibbons hissed, his shoulders sinking. Somehow at least that managed to once more make the two older wizards stop their quarrel.

“All I was saying was that Henry here -” Ridcully started.

“Not you, sir,” Ponder rolled his eyes. “The fowl. It's the fowl. It's sleeping.”

“Of course it is, Stibbons. Chickens always do around this time of da- “  S uddenly the Archchancellor of the UU understood, drawing a face similar to Ponder's expression.

Moments later it dawned on the former Dean too.

“Is that true, Mr . Stibbons?” he asked and it seemed as if he was using his whole body as resonator for a growl accompanying that question.

Ponder felt awkwardly horrible all of a sudden. He shouldn't have said that. The way the Archchanclellor of Brazeneck looked right now spoke of a not very bright future for young Turnipseed.

And that Ridcully then looked at the other senior wizard with a certain worry was only adding to that.

“It's,” Stibbons started carefully, knowing he had to choose his words wisely. Adrian's reputation depended on it.

“Yes, the machine isn't working because the chickens are sleeping and can't therefore  build up the needed field. But that is not Adrian's fault. It is but one of many theories we have about how thinking engines work. He couldn't have known, sir.”

The former Dean raised a brow.

“Couldn't he?” he growled, crossed his arms and leaned back “But you knew, Stibbons. That means you kept that bit of knowledge from him in order to sabotage us.”

“That's enough, Henry!” Ridcully bristled “Use your head for something else than eating and nagging for a change. Stibbons realized these things just  now , obviously. He can't hold back things he didn't  know before. And even IF, why should he have kept it to himself in order to  _sabotage_ you? No one knew you'd steal young Turnipseed from us till it was too late. You're being paranoid.”

“I might very well be. Officially we're at war, are we not?”

Ridcully glared.

“I thought we were to sort that out on the field, Henry.”

The other Archchancellor rose, glaring just as angrily.

“I thought so too, But apparently you and your lads can't wai-”

“Henry Cornelius Porter **!** ”

It is never a good sign if someone sees the need to raise his voice and address his opponent with the full name and use an exclamation mark that borders on being two marks.

It was an even less good sign if the person doing the addressing that way is Mustrum Ridcully, someone who was the epit ome of 'No Indoor Voice'. Though right now 'Vocal Warfare' might be the better word.

“You will stop being so bleedin'ly paranoid about this whole thing and finally wrap your head 'round the idea that we will sort this mess out on the field as agreed. Understand?”

Ponder couldn't help but compare the former Dean to a soufflé someone had opened the oven door on too early that moment.

“I didn't know either!” the young wizard then exclaimed, earning some very surprised looks.

“I admit it. I had no idea what could have been the problem. And with all due honesty I still am not. As I said, that it takes the field the chickens are ought to establish are one of many theories on how machines like Hex or Pex here work. It could even be that there's no such thing as a morphic resonation field. No one really  _knows_ how these thinking engines work. Except for themselves. I know what you might be thinking. 'They are but a bunch of pipes, metal, wood and some unhygenic critters scattering about ,' that's what you're thinking. So? A human is nothing but a heap of flesh, blood, hair, skin and some actually very nasty chemicals from a certain point of  view . And yet he can think, be creative, become so many things. Watchmen, Patrician, Butcher, even Archchancellor...”

Ponder bit his tongue and the idea that the list of examples was a good addition quickly faded. He knew what would come next.

“You're trying to tell me that thing could take my place?”

“You're not an Archchancellor, Henry.”

Though Stibbons didn't even hear the confirmation that his idea of the older wizard's reaction was correct. He had grabbed his clothes and left before any more  babbling would start.

Couldn't they hold back just for once? Or at least ask questions concerning the matter?

Or even better, read up on things before they comment?

Ponder wouldn't even go as far as to demand they should read up to understand him perfectly, but at least get some basic knowledge on the things he was doing.

He noticed he was getting grumpy about the same old stuff again. Didn't he promise himself not to do so anymore? Granted, it was better than yelling at them one day.

After all, in some way s he liked the old folks, even if he'd never openly admit it. But sometimes they were about to drive him mad.

Ponder still wasn't certain if he should be happy or angry at Archchancellor Ridcully after having discovered the old man was, or at least could be, far cleverer than it often seemed.

But to be honest, right now young Stibbons was certain about nothing at all. Except for the fact that now that the problem seemed solved he had run out of steam and was getting sleepier and sleepier with every step.

A bit of steam returned, though, when he walked cross the courtyard and spotted Professor Macarona sitting in the light of a small lantern on the side of the fountain there, looking miserable and rubbing his face.

“Weren't you heading for bed, Professor?” Ponder greeted, not knowing anything better to say.

The genuan wizard looked up, wincing briefly and holding his ear.

“I was. You do not have a warming spell prepared, non?”

“No, why... What happened?”

“I must have somehow trigger ed a spell in the corridor over there. And now my face hurts.”

Stibbons sighed, sat down and had a look at the reddened, cold skin.

“It burns. It burns with cold,” Macarona moaned.

“ _Marston's Frigorific Barrier_ , as it seems,” Ponder said with a hint of confusion . “In case you don't know, it's a spell to protect rooms from unwanted people getting near or into them... Especially if those people intend to peek through windows, keyholes or listening on the door, window or wall. What did you do?”

The last sentence was spoken with a suspicious undertone.

“I headed for my chamber and as I wandered the corridors here I heard a... ah, now I forgot the word... How would you say  _bruit étrange_ ? 

“Strange noise?”

“Yes. My, basic words and I forget them. So, I heard a strange noise from one of the rooms down this corridor. I became suspected...no, that's not right... suspicious and wanted to hear what it was.”

Ponder tilted his head, watching the genuan wizard trying to get some warmth back into the side of his face, “Don't pinch it like that. Rubbing and patting has a greater effect.”

“Je sais. I heard that one often enough.”

“Anyway,” Stibbons frowned, crossed his arms and sent the older wizard a brief glare, “I guess you are aware that Professor Turnipseed's room is on this very corridor and that Sebastian is with him, aren't you? I know for certain that Adrian puts up said spell if he wants to keep his privacy and, no offense but...”

“Mes dieux, what do you  _think_ of me, M. Stibbon?” Macarona protested offended, “M. Courtsbridge is so aggressive towards me, even if I would have been curious if the lads do  anything else but  actual sleeping, I do not wish to --how you say?-- push my luck. I don't even know if it was M. Turnipseed's room. I was just curious about that noise.”

“You could have just knocked. In any case,” Stibbons shook his head, “You shouldn't really walk around like this with your knee still in bandages.”

“But it is so boring in the chamber they gave me. There is not even anything to read.”

“I'm not surprised. They still are in the middle of moving. I take it most of the book are still at the old rooms of Brazeneck,” Ponder briefly sighed as a thought struck his mind. “Why couldn't the whole university stay there? We wouldn't be in this mess if they'd done.”

“M. Stibbon, this is actually something I would like to know. What is it actually with this whole 'war based on distance ? ' I can not say I fully understand it.”

Ponder sat down next to the genuan wizard, sighing.

“An old rule,” he started, “No, not rule, actual law. From the time when the thaumaturgic wars slowly ceased. If two cities house a university large enough to have an Archchancellor on top the smallest distance between the out-most boundaries of the institutions have to be a certain distance apart, otherwise the two schools and thereby the cities are officially at war,” he pointed up at the fountain. “This fountain is,  according to old documents, exactly that distance away from the Tower of Art. What that means for the boundaries is not hard to guess. While Brazeneck was in its old building further turnwise from here things were fine. But then they moved here, the former Dean became Brazeneck's Archchancellor and now the two cities would be officially at war if their leaders wouldn't have agreed on having us wizards sort things out in a different fashion. If it  hadn't have been for Mr. Likely and his new set of football rules who knows where we'd be now. Lucky he decided to take the chance and propose a game following the rules he's been working on ever since his father's untimely death now. Pity the test game against the team formed from the regular city teams ended as it ended, what with your knee and all. But we won and people seem to like the new rules and...” Ponder paused, narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, looking at thin air for a moment. “But that last bit you know and therefore it was pretty unnecessary to give that bit of exposition, wasn't it?”

The two wizards looked at each other, both shrugging after a moment.

“You are heading for bed?” Macarona then asked, shuffling a bit closer to the younger man.

“I should, it's almost sunrise and if my suspicions about Pex and the chicken were correct we'll be leaving for old UU after breakfast. And above all,” Ponder rubbed his eyes and rose, “I am so tired. You should get back to bed, too. Good night.”

“Could you help me to my chamber? It has gotten colder and that is not of help to my knee. Not to mention you could stay, too, it's such a long way to your room and...”

“Good night, Professor,” the younger wizard said flatly, turned and stalked to his own room.

And the next morning came.

It remained over Pseudopolis for a while and then decided to move on, making place for early midday.

In one of the chambers something stirred under the bedcovers and a murmur was heard.

The murmur, as it was, was the answer to a careful knock at the door before.

And it was followed by another knock.

Adrian Turnipseed  raised his head from under the eiderdown, peeled one eye open with a lot of effort and repeated himself.

“C'm in.”

As the door opened he fell back into the soft cushions with a sigh.

“Good morning,” Ponder whispered, looking at the two men in bed with a bemused smile.

In response Adrian mumbled something that vaguely reminded of 'Morning' and slowly sat up. Well, tried at least.

“Slept well?” Stibbons asked, smiling as soon as Adrian had managed to open both eyes for a moment.

The younger man let himself fall back into the bed again, nodded and managed something that, translated into a vaguely human language, could easily mean 'Sorta'.

“I think I might have found your problem, Adrian . ”

Again Adrian yawned and turned his head a bit.

“Mhn?” he mumbled.

“At least I dare say so. Oh, and the others have found something to do with the eggs.”

“Oh?”

“They did the obvious and used them for breakfast.”

“Breakfast?”

“Granted, it's almost eleven in the morning now, but, hey, at the UU you can get breakfast from six in the morning to half past eleven in the night.”

“...Do I dare to ask what's for breakfast then?”

“Well...You can have scrambled eggs;” Ponder started, “bacon and scrambled eggs; bacon, sausage and scrambled eggs; bacon, scrambled eggs and scrambled eggs; sausage, bacon and scrambled eggs; bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage, scrambled eggs and scrambled eggs; baked beans, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, bacon, scrambled eggs, sausage and scrambled eggs; scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon and scrambled eggs; scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, scrambled eggs, baked beans, scrambled eggs, sausage and scrambled eggs....

“Anything without scrambled eggs?”

“The sunny side up eggs... I think.”

Turnipseed frowned, rolled over in his bed and caused the still sleeping Skazz next to him to mumble annoyed as Adrian had been pulling away the eiderdown in the process.

To this Turnipseed slowly sat up, looking at Ponder who was looking everywhere else now.

“Be fair,” he yawned with a risen brow and leaned to the side to fish for his clothes, “It's been such a long time.”

Stibbons twitched.

“Why thank you,” he said. “A confirmation is just what I needed.”

Adrian dressed, stood up, gently laid the eiderdown back over Sebastian, who cuddled into it with a satisfied sigh, and placed a small, loving kiss on the younger man's cheek, before waving Ponder to follow him out of the room.

“So,” Adrian started rather sheepishly once he had closed the door again, “You found what was wrong?”

“Remember Tez' s old theory of --what did he call it again?-- 'Required Harmony'?”

The younger man's shoulders sank after a moment.

“That's a joke, isn't it?” he squeaked, looking miserable.

“As the machine is working now, it's apparently not.”

Adrian sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Porter's going to kick me out.”

“I doubt that. Believe it or not, Ridcully had a small fit of rage when Mr . Porter seemed to get that idea.”

Turnipseed blinked once, twice and then blushed deep red, chewing his lower lip.

“And... and Mr . Porter? What did he say? Did he listen?”

“I dare say so. When I left them to look how you and Skazz are doing they were talking about when to call the football match.”

“Oh. Well...”

“Doubt we'll be playing before late summer.”

“Oh... Err... Ponder?”

“Yes?”

“Can I ask you something personal?” Adrian looked down at the ground, trying hard to avoid the other's gaze.

Adrian was more than obviously carrying a great weight on his chest. He finally gulped, took a deep breath and started with a low,  meek voice.

“You said we are still friends, right?”

Ponder blinked.

“...Yes.”

“And you are not angry at me that I am here now?”

Again Stibbons blinked.

“...No...? Yes, I have been... miffed that you came here at the drop of a hat, but looking at the possibilities -” he stopped, looking at Adrian with an icy lump forming in his stomach . “Is everything alright?”

Adrian looked rather bewildered.

“Yes. Why shouldn't it? You're not angry with me and... well, Porter isn't going to kick me out, right?” Adrian smiled “We...should go and eat something, shouldn't we?”

For a few confused seconds Ponder stood there, looking after his former student as that one moved down the corridor with wide steps, before shrugging and following him. 

The rest of the day was pretty unspectacular.

At Brazeneck that is. Rincewind later had a brief moment of utter bliss when he discovered that, if he had stayed in Ankh-Morpork he would have had to go to a certain at a certain hour, which would have led to him now being somewhere over in Brindisi, involved in a gold-robbery, coach chases and might have ended being stuck in a carriage dangling over a cliff.

But as things were now the only curious thing that happened was the absence of some of the members of Adrian's team and the former Dean when the UU wizards left for their own University.

Curious, but comprehensible, once one thought about it for a moment. 

The following evening the trek arrived back in Ankh-Morpork.

Most of the wizards that went with it did something very, very unusual once they were back at the campus of Unseen University.

They skipped supper and headed straight for their beds.

Ponder on the other hand went almost straight for one of the renovated  shower-rooms , followed closely by his student.

“...and that's just one possibility,” he ended as they both started to undress. “I'll have to talk to the Postmaster General if it would work, though.”

With a bit of puzzlement Stibbosn then looked at his student, who was staring in awe at the new changing room.

“Nice, isn't it?” he smiled, almost proudly.

“Oh yes... Did you do this by yourself... I mean the designing stuff.”

“No. I just picked something from several designs.”

Skazz nodded, closing the small locker.

“It certainly is pretty,” he grinned.

And then watched Ponder shuffled around nervously, trying to undress without being seen. Even though them two were alone.

“There's nothing of what I don't know what it looks like, Ponster. And if there actually is you'd be rather concerned 'bout that and not me seein' ye nekkid.”

Stibbons blushed slightly and then frowned, wrapping a towel around himself and marching towards the showers.

His student followed close by, sniggering  amusedly.

Then they turned a corner and Skazz went silent. And felt his jaw drop for a moment.

He had expected the showers to look different after what he saw in the changing area, but this was just stunning. 

“Wow,” he managed, still standing there agape.

And if his memory served him right, and it usually did when it came to more or less useless  knowledge , the style the showers were in now was called --what was that fancy quirmian name again?-- 'Art  Nouveau '. (1) In short: There was lots of brass, dark wood and warm colours and flourish decorations.

\---

(1) Something that had let to various discussions already, as basically every style that hadn't been there before was 'new'.

\---  


He should have expected something like it from Ponder. After all, Skazz knew his mentor did things like this  to  outweigh the stress his jobs brought with them.

There were two areas at both ends of the long hall with open showers, but between them were several stalls with dark wooden doors for the shyer person here to wash dirt off or simply relax. These were, Skazz decided upon seeing them in full as Ponder led him up to a pair in the middle section of the hall, equally stunning as the whole room itself. Big enough to fit three to four people(2), with a stone bench each on one side and directly under the quite large shower head they were possibl y the best of the best in the whole city already. Skazz examined the stalls as  well as he could right now and found the doors were lockable. His grin  broadened briefly before faltering into a sad pout.

\---  


(2) Three to four regular students that is. Which equals one regular wizard.

\---  


"What's wrong?" Stibbons felt obliged to ask.

"Nothin'. Just thought Drongo might have liked this."

"Curious,” Ponder grimaced. “He said that about you when he had had a look at the showers. Had the same reaction, too. Told him not to think about it further. It would only result in clogged drains.”

“Oh, that wouldn't have been somethin' to worry about if we'd both been here,” Skazz sniggered and then moved passed his mentor and into one of the stalls as Ponder stiffened, the face deep red.

For a bit the only sound heard was water running and an occasional coughing. Then Sebastian felt like asking something that bothered him.

“Ponster?”

“Yes?” the answer came from the neighbour ing stall.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Well, actually it's less o' a question... Y' know, I'm a bit amazed Drongo got that thing to work with chickens. Never would have guessed that'd work.”

Ponder washed the soap off his face, coughing briefly as water got in his nose.

“If you take it precisely he acted  according to the number one rule we had at the HEM, Skazz.”

The student paused.

“'If Ridcully gets your thesis the first time round you're doing something wrong'?” he wondered.

“...Err...No.”

Skazz combed his fingers through his hair and tilted his head up thinking after that response.

“'Switch off the Panspectral Emission Transmitter(3) if you don't need it, unless you're willing to get rid of the outerwordly, tentacly mess yourself'?”

\---

(3) Originally Ponder had named it 'Panspectral Emission Non-avoidable Integration System'. He really isn't one for acronyms sometimes.

\---  


“...No.”

“Don't say it...err... 'It doesn't matter how long you leave your clothes lying on the windowsill, they won't walk up to the laundry on their own even in a magical  environment' ?

Now Stibbons frowned, turned off the shower, wrapped a towel round his waist, stalked out of his shower-stall and opened the shutter to the one Sebastian was in .

“No. Not  even close.”

The student scratched his head.

“Number one rule...” he mumbled, “Oh, I got it: 'You don't know if it works until you tried it'!”

“That's the one.”

Skazz smiled, before shrugging a bit lost.

“But, Ponster. It's still chickens , ” he said. “Chickens working in the place of ants completely destroys... ”

“The Bicentrically Deployed Synapse Mimicry(4)?”

\---  


(4) See?

\---

“Precisely.”

“Though of that, too, to be honest. But as said, you never know without trying. Ants and other species with a collective consciousness taking the place of a brain's synapses made so much more sense than it just needing some order.”

There was a brief pause and Skazz, being a bit annoyed with Ponder standing in the open shower door, pulled his mentor into the cabin and closed the shutter again. Stibbons' answer to this was a high-pitched squeak.

“Well, maybe chickens are the exceptions that proves the rules,” the student said a moment later.

“ Possibly ,” Ponder managed after having calmed again. “Have I told you I overheard that Baker calling it a miracle of nature? And he calls himself natural philosopher.”

“That'd be fitting. Adrian is a miracle of nature himself, after all . ” Skazz nodded sagely and his mentor raised a brow.

“His father's a PE teacher , ” the student explained.

There was a bit of silence between the two young men before Stibbons shook himself and drew a face that neatly illustrated the definite definition of utter confusion and disbelief.

“Can they even breed with humans?” he finally babbled, “I always thought PE Teachers hatch from eggs roosters lay after getting hit by a medicine ball.”

After another moment he shook his head, deciding that maybe there were, after all, questions in the universe that were better left unanswered.

This state of mind existed for all of two minutes.

“And how would you know?” he asked his student.

“Drongo told me when I once suggested we go to his folks over the holidays.”

“Oh...” Ponder sat down on the bench and stared down at the  tessellation on the floor. “Well, I shouldn't be surprised you know more about him than I do.”

“A bit. But not much. He doesn't talk about his parents much.”

“Oh dear.”

“Mhn?” Skazz tilted his head in light confusion, turned off the water and grabbed his own towel, “Oh. Oh, no, it's not that. He's not holding back things. There's just not much to talk about. His mother is pretty decent and his father... Well, he's just what ye expect of a PE Teacher.”

With a bit of relief Ponder sighed, before shuddering as memories of sport at his old school crept back to him.

At least he had been an excellent swimmer even back then, what got him off his teacher's blacklist despite being chubby  _and_ weird.

But an idea crept up his spine. (5)

\---

(5) It had a few problems to reach his head though, as Ponder's hair was still wet and the idea had to move against the water running down.

\---

“Do you think he is happy living closer to his parents again?”

Skazz took his dear time, drying his hair and trying to get water out of his ears. Then he looked at his mentor for a moment, looked to the side, leaned forward and whispered something in Ponder's ear.

After that Ponder held no interest in getting an in depth explanation.

Though even if there wouldn't have been the time for it now, as about the same moment the two had started redressing the Archchancellor walked in.

“There you are, lad. Need to have a talk with you.”

The youngest member of the faculty winced. That did not sound good.

“Don't worry, Stibbons. It's nothing bad. Though important. In a way. Thought it better to come here and get you personally in this case. Not bad what you've done with the showers, lad.”

“Err... Thanks, sir. But...How did you find me, sir?”

“One of your lads told me you'd be here.”

Ponder blinked.

“Sir, except for Skazz here I have no lads left.”

Now it was Ridcully's turn to blink in surprise.

“What about the fellow with the unhygenic hairstyle? Matted shags all over.”

“Tez? He has been one of my students. But he joined the choir.”

“Looked pretty alive too me. Well 'cept his hair. I'd expect such hairstyle on one of them howondalandian fellows - wonderful people, never you mind.”

“Err...no,sir. The school choir.”

“Oh.”

In fact the Archchancellor had all reason to be astonished by that information. Not because Stibbons' s whole group was apparently still alive and kicking, though that was an achievement in its own right, but because spotting a member of the choir outside a performance was event as rare as... There was actually nothing to compare it to. Even occurrences such as Great A'tuin meeting up with another full grown intergalactic turtle carrying on its back a four elephants that in turn carried a flat world on their shoulders to accompany it to a party organised by multicoloured horses was only almost as rare as spotting a member of a school choir. 

Ridcully cleared his throat after a moment.

“In any case,” he rumbled, his thoughts slowly recovering from the surprise and rearranging themsel ves back onto their initial track, “Get dressed and come to my study.”

As the Archchancellor left Skazz patted his mentor on the head.

“Good luck there, man. You'll need it. But's been nice knowin' ye.”

Ponder gritted his teeth, hissed through them, quickly redressed and still with rather wet hair, marched to the Archchancellor's study. 

“Sir?” he carefully shuffled into the door, expecting the worst.

He had helped a rival college after all. This was ought to fall back on him, though he had not expected it within the next four months.

“You're looking miserable, Stibbons.”

“Sir, I have to protest that you see the aid I have been given to Brazeneck as something reprehensible,” the younger wizard started babbling, “As I have already explained there are a many new and positive possibilities...”

“What'yer talkin', about, lad? I wanted to talk about these new projects of yours.”

“Eh... ? ” Ponder blushed deep red and stiffened.

“Granted, I'm not at all happy that yer giving away Hex for free, but if you think it's fine I'm not going to say anything against it. You know that blasted engine better than anyone else. But do explain to me what those new projects you mentioned were. You made me curious.”

It took the Reader in Invisible Writing almost all his willpower not to frown. One of the possible project s he, unwisely, had mentioned  to the Archchancellor would, if it would work, enable Ridcully to shout at the former Dean from the comforts of his study.

“There,” Ponder paused, “There actually isn't that much more to explain about it, sir. We don't even know if it works with current technology. Right now it's all a vague idea. Actually  an idea we had had for years. The existence of Pex just enabled us to do a test-run of what we intend using the L-Space instead of, hopefully later, the clacks system.”

“I see, I see. And the other things you talked about?”

“You see, sir, Those are even less of a concrete idea.”

“Ah, what a pity. I had hoped we'd outdo Brazeneck rather quickly with that. But ah well. Now, for  other things, Stibbons.”

Ridcully reached towards one of the stacks of folders in the room and grabbed a folder from one.

“Got a bit curious 'bout why you needed to have the lad with ye, Stibbons. Had a look at young Courtsbridge's record.”

Ponder gulped as the Archchancellor sat down.

“He seems to be quite a scallywag, if I read things correctly. Nothing wrong with that, I must admit. Been a bit o' one meself after all . ” Ridcully leaned back in his chair and looked rather thoughtfully at the ceiling. “But back to our young friend... I don't know. How would you describe him?”

“Sebastian is...” Ponder sighed through his nose, looking for a good answer, “He's a bit of a n oddball and loudmouth, as said. Often speaks his mind without thinking twice. That got him in trouble often enough.”

“Accourding to his record 157 times, not counting the reprimands. Did you hear that Herny recognised him? Your Mr Courtsbridge was the one who got the bright notion to take a pan to 'Poor Scholars' once.”

Again Stibbons gulped. He had to admit that the Archchancellor was awfully frightening when he was for once speaking calmly, earnest ly, and at a normal volume.

“Well, sir, Sebastian has an affinity for loopholes. I know I should have prevented him from doing that back then, especially since he approached me before and outright asked whether or not there's a rule against students bringing something with them to 'Poor Scholars'.”

Ridcully looked back down into the folder.

“But you didn't. And perhaps that was even for the better. But,” he looked back up and Ponder stiffened, “While we are at the topic of loopholes. Am I right to assume that what you called 'financial trickery concerning an old bequest', is a loophole which is aiding Sebastian's family?”

“It isn't an actual loophole, sir,” Ponder sighed and then took a deep breath, “Remember the information you got about his step-grandmother? You see, sir, Sebastian discovered that he's a  wizard by accident, as quite many students do nowadays. It was the same in my case. You saw how Sebastian's family lives now and it was far worse several years back. Now, they had the dilemma that they couldn't let him stay around anywhere as long as he can't control his abilities.”

“But they  didn't have the money, right?”

Ponder nodded.

“Precisely, sir. His step-grandmother then offered to pay for him. I don't know what the requirements were for that ; Sebastian never told me, but I know that  there  had been some. Well now, by accident I later discovered an old bequest and tradition enabling and allowing faculty-members to take up sponsorship for up to five students...”

Now Ridcully sat up abruptly and furrowed his brow.  Knowing that would happen Ponder sighed again and looked straight and sternly at the Archchancellor.

“Yes, sir, there is something in the university statute that has been made in order to aid students. The university is several centuries old and seen many things. Amongst them potential students that were unable to afford enrolling and instead had to leave their homes in order to protect their loved ones. Many of these young men still caused harm to others without wanting it and some even became evil wizards and warlocks because no one was there to guide them. In fact said bequest and the appendant rule are even older than the rule that got us into the trouble that made playing football necessary.”

The Archchancellor leaned back again, folded his hands and thought for a moment.

“Ah well,” he then shrugged, “we've all been students once. Do continue.”

Inwardly Ponder was relieved that went rather easy. But now he had to finish his explanation.

“As you might have already guessed I... made use of the given possibility. In order to aid Sebastian's family...”

Here Ridcully raised his hand, stopping Ponder mid-sentence.

“I think I can guess the rest, too, Stibbons. You rearranged the money flow so that the money from his step- grandma landed in the pockets o' his parents, right?”

The younger wizards gulped and absent-mindedly scratched his cheek, looking innocently up at the ceiling.

“I take that as a Yes. But 'onestly now, lad. Do you think your young friend poses a  threat to the university?”

“Sir?”

Ridcully sighed, causing the chair to creek rum as he leaned further back.

“I'm ought to ask, don't ye know? Normally I wouldn't care, me own file didn't look perfect back in the day and I know you've been around, too. But as the head of this institution I am ought to care. Therefor e , does Mr . Courtsbridge pose any thread to the university or the city?”

For a moment Ponder blinked. Then the thought that the Archchancellor was taking an actual interest in such affairs solely to give old UU a better public image than Brazeneck might have struck and things started to make sense.

“To be honest, sir, sometimes I wonder if Sebastian spends his free time with  sorting family  pictures and planning to annihilate reality.” (6)

\---  


(6) Of course, that idea of Skazz's free time activities was utter nonsense. With a family as big as his 'Sorting family pictures' was nothing you could do in your free time,

\---

“Any chance of him succeeding?”

“Err... Actually no, sir.”

“Then that's settled.”

Ponder rose, not really knowing whether to answer that or not and if yes how.

“Oh, just one more thing, Stibbons.”

“Yes?”

“Dry your hair. You'll catch a cold like that.”

Stibbons nodded and left, heading back to the HEM.

He should sleep now, but not only was that talk he just had rather confusing as a whole, there was also the new project looming ahead. Something he refused to let wait till tomorrow. Now even more than before.

It surprised him, though, to find his student still awake, snuggled into the couch that one day appeared in Hex's room and reading.

“Still awake? What are you reading?”

As answer Skazz simply held up the book, allowing Ponder to take a good look at the cover.

“Sebastian!” Stibbons exclaimed in shock and horror, “Didn't I tell you getting those from the L-Space is  _dangerous_ ? You could cause the universe to implode by simply reading them!”

Skazz looked up from the text.

“Logically speaking the universes already imploded when we found out about them in at least one reality. Aside from that I am not reading the one concerning our here and now, but the one from the article. Do you really think the Librarian would have handed this to me if he wouldn't be certain I am not destroying the world as we know it?”

Ponder frowned and sat down to continue working on Hex.

As Skazz was not someone who can read a book without commenting on the text, whether he's alone or not, the following time was filled with some chuckles, a few groans, some  occasions of the student blowing raspberries at the book and one instance of

'Seriously, I know enough Uberwaldean to know that 'S' is probably NOT the letter you should be worryin' about, man'. This went on till he suddenly rose, flipped the book several pages back and walk over to his mentor, who was in the middle of copying an array of spells.

“Do we have one of those?” Skazz asked, pointing at the text.

Ponder's eyes wandered over the lines and he finally shook his head.

“No. Why?”

“Wanted to see what would happen after those 14.14 hours if we'd get a box one can fit everything into, no matter the size, from the cabinet and then put the cabinet into the box.”

The Head of Inadvisably Applied Magic cast a stony glare at his student.

“You know, sometimes I hate it when I'm proven correct.”

“Huh?”

“Nevermind.”

Skazz shrugged, sat back down and continued reading while Ponder pulled a few more books from the shelves.

There was a moment of silence, if one ignored Skazz's mumbled commentaries, the typing sounds Ponder caused, the flipping of pages and the humming and rattling from Hex.

“You deceived me, roundwordly cover illustrator!” Skazz suddenly exclaimed.

Stibbons turned, having a very good idea what his student meant.

“Skazz you KNEW Vetinari wouldn't be referee. Cut the drama.”

The younger man pouted and continued reading. Ponder tried his best to ignore any further noises from his student, as he was suddenly facing a bigger problem.

He had been trying to set up something to enable the direct communication between Hex and the machine at Brazeneck, using the clacks system.

It went well.

Then there had been the scratching of Hex's quill, followed by an eerie drop in the volume of the engine's sounds.

+++Connection Closed. Access Denied+++ 

+++I'm scared+++


End file.
